


Six Crows

by BoMonster



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Wings, Angels, But only if you squint, Character Death, Christmas, Dead animals, Demons, Drinking, Drinking Games, Drinking to Cope, Gen, Ghosts, Ghouls, Manhattan, Mediums, Miracles, New York, Other, Self-Hatred, Skinwalkers - Freeform, Teamwork, Werewolves, and i dont even think it counts, because teamwork is nice, but not for very long, but only for a little bit, if you want to get specific, in more ways than one if you can figure it out, reapers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-09-26 19:19:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 61,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9917954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoMonster/pseuds/BoMonster
Summary: Two dudes, one bed, and a crap ton of monsters that aren't that bad.





	1. Chapter One-Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is short. As I got more comfy with writing the parts got longer. This might also be crap.

The yips and howls of dogs echoed through the dimly lit alley ways and streets of a dampened New York City, Manhattan if you want to get into specifics. The sound bounced off every wall and followed the dogs as a mist. It sounded of twenty dogs when there were merely six speeding down a particularly dark alley lit only by the light of the full moon which, even then, was periodically covered by grey clouds from the day's rain. The dark was no problem for them, but the rain on the other hand...

The rain was a problem.

They kept losing the scent of the thing they were tracking because of the rain. The rain always muddles everything, but even if it did, it was still the beginning and end of everything. The dogs slowed as the reached the end of the alley and came to the sidewalk of a more or less deserted street. Few cars could be seen driving upon the road while most of the lights in the apartments were out, save for a few.

A black lab, the leader of the group, directed a small 'woof' towards a slightly larger dog before trotting off towards another alley with his nose to the ground and two other dogs at his heels. This left the larger canine, a Spanish bulldog, with his own two dogs, and he made his way across the street with them, nose also to the ground.

The rain began to go fall harder from the sky. It wasn't quite pouring, but still enough so that instead of their paws being muddy and the outer fur of their coats damp, the rain began to soak through to their skin. Any hope that they had of staying warm that night was thrown out the window once it began to rain harder. One of the dogs in the bulldog's group, a German Shepherd Husky mix by the looks, shook out his fur in a futile attempt to remove the moisture from his brown, black, and cream-colored coat. He sent a whimper to the leader of the group, though it only gained him a growl. The bulldog returned sniffing the ground even though he knew the scent was gone.

When they reached the end of the alleyway, the bulldog let out a howl to alert the other group that they hadn't found anything. The rain pelted down harder and was now at the point of pouring. The Shepherd mix shook his fur out again before sending another whimper towards the leader which earned him a snap and a stern glare. The leader's drenched fur stood on end over his back as he proceeded past the Shepherd mix. The bulldog's ears we're flat against his head as he trotted past the him, a growl in his throat and not another glance spared for the Shepherd mix. The third canine in the group gave the other a sad, sidelong glance as he followed the bulldog. A howl came from the leader of the other group through the rain, and the band of three trotted back towards the others, tension still high between the bulldog and the mix, irked by the rain and their impractical searching.

They exited the alley the way they had entered, and the leader sent a bark towards the other group which was waiting for them underneath a lamp-post, the light illuminating the now torrential downpour that was drowning the city.

The lab that had instructed the bulldog to break away into a smaller group shook his large, heavy head to try to at least relieve it of some of the rainwater. As the other dogs had found, they were going to be soaked for a while. The mix let out what could have been a dog sigh. Really, it was a blowing of air from his mouth and another fruitless attempt to rid his fur of the rainwater. The bulldog noticed immediately and sent a growl in his general direction. If dogs could glare, these two were definitely doing it.

The bulldog woofed to the two others in his party, and continued out into the street, glancing both ways as to make sure no cars were coming as he crossed. He made it to the other side and met up with the other group. The leader of the other group, the large salt and pepper dog, sent a bark to the two dogs on the other side of the street, alerting them that it was time for another to cross. They had been having problems with cars narrowly missing dogs when the rain was pouring as it was now, so they had collectively decided to cross one at a time to make sure no one got hit. They had made the decision at a meeting a few weeks ago.

The mix placed a paw into the street, careful not to step into the gutter that was nearly a river with the amount of water that was cascading through it. He glanced up at the group across the street and made eye-contact with the bulldog. The bulldog's ears were again flat against the back of his head and his lip pulled up in a menacing snarl. The mix retracted his paw from the street and looked to the only other canine that was on the same side of the street as him. The other dog looked at the ground before crossing the street safely.

Only the mix was left. He knew that once he had crossed the street, they would call it a night and head back to the compound where they could dry off and get some warm food. He heard the woof that signified that it would be safe for him to cross, and he set foot into the street.

He had made it halfway across when they heard the sound of a car rounding the corner. The leader of the other group let out a louder bark, and the mix was soon sprinting across the street as the others took off down the street, away from the car. The dog that had been crossing the street was a ways behind, but he took the liberty to look behind him to see the van of an animal control worker have one of its doors thrown open so that a human to could jump out into the rain and onto the slick concrete. He knew he was it deep trouble now, but he could still had a chance of escape if he could run faster than the human.

His head snapped back to look forward to find that the group he hadn't been too far behind was gone. His crystal blue eyes widened a bit and his pace slowed slightly, desperately trying to make out which way they had gone, but the rain washed away any scent that they had left in that short amount of time. The sound of a human thundering through some of the small puddles that littered the sidewalk pulled him out of his state of shock, and the dog knew he couldn't afford to slow his pace. He would just have to wing it. Run and hope he didn't get caught.

He skidded dangerously around a corner into an alley, his claws barely gaining traction on the water-slick concrete. One of the street lights of the alley was out while another was flickering on and off, but the most noticeable part was probably the fact that it was a dead-end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's the end of the first part. Each chapter is actually going to be split into smaller parts at the advice given to me by my beta reader. If I did keep it all in one chapter, it was going to be a hell of a long one.
> 
> A/N: I have now realized that there aren't actually this many alleyways in the place I planned this to be, but for the sake of the plot (and my strange love of alleys) there will be this many alleyways.
> 
> Edit from the future: In the next, I dunno, _nineteen_ parts I talk a lot about wanting to rewrite this chapter, but after fully rereading it for the first time in probably a month, I know there's no way I can rewrite in any better with my current set of skills. Trust me, I tried. Just ignore me when I talk about wanting to rewrite this.


	2. Chapter 1-Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh shit, I forgot to mention that for the Skinwalkers I'm using some form of Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics for the Skinwalkers. Well now you know.  
> It's not the normal stuff (still two sexes like for humans) so if it comes to a point where it needs explaining, there'll be an explanation.

The room was silent as the blonde sat on a stool at the kitchen island in the center of his pristine kitchen. The lights above the island were brightly lit while the rest of the room's lights were slightly dimmed, though not by much. The walls were a deep maroon red, the cabinets an extremely dark brown, and the counter-tops a gray, smooth marble. It was a windowless room with a modern air to it.

Screws, pieces of silver-colored metal, and assorted tools were spread out across the island. The blonde was hunched over, fiddling with what seemed to be a glove with pieces of the silver-colored metal attached to it. He wore a pair of magnifying goggles on his face as he screwed another piece to the finger-less, leather glove.

His phone rang, vibrating loudly against the marble of the island (mostly because it had no case). The blonde made a mental note that he should get a case for the phone as he set down his tools and the glove before pushing the goggles to the top of his head, his unruly, curly-ish hair falling over his forehead. Running a hand through his bangs, he reached across the island and grabbed the phone so that he could look at the caller ID and decide if he wanted to answer it.

It was a caller ID that he didn't recognize.

His brows pulled together slightly, if at all, as he swiped across the screen and held the phone to his ear.

"Who's this?" He asked as he stretched in the stool before standing to turn the dimmed lights of the kitchen up.

"It's, uh," the voice of a younger sounding boy crackled through the line as the blonde listened, venturing back to the isle he had been previously sat at after he had turned the rest of the lights of the kitchen to their regular setting.

"My name's Elliot, sir. I was on last night's capture assignment in the Lower East Side."

"That's nice for me to know," the blonde stated with a bored tone as he spun around on one of the stools of the island.

"I was wondering if it was in the report that one of our team members got caught." The blonde stopped spinning.

"No, that wasn't in the report." The blonde stated in a humorless voice.

"Oh..."

"Did you write the report?" The blonde questioned sternly over the phone.

"No!" The younger boy blurted out over the phone as soon as the question was asked. He couldn't have been more than eighteen years of age. The boy cleared his throat, regaining his composure. "No, sir, it was the second in command of our outing who wrote it I believe."

The blonde let out a hum. He at all wasn't happy to find this out. It had been such a quiet Monday for him, though it was a little too quiet since his 'secretary' (more just company so he didn't get bored) had not showed up. "Do you by chance know the name of the team member who got captured?"

"Vincent Torum... Toris maybe? I had seen him around the compound before but I had never talked to him."

"Vincent Torvus?" The blonde asked while standing to make his way to the coat closet to grab a coat and a few other assorted items.

"Yeah, that's him."

"Right, well thank you for the tip. I've got an idiot to demote," the blonde said quickly before ending the call. 'So that's why he didn't show up.' An exasperated sigh left his lips as he searched through his contacts for the number of the second-in-command who had every so delightfully decided to leave out the fact that they lost a team member.

He held the phone to his ear, ringing two times before a click sounded, alerting him that somebody had picked up.

"Who's there?" a gruff, surly voice asked from the other side of the line.

"Your boss." The call was silent for a breath.

"Somet'n wrong?" the gruff voice asked slowly.

"Have you seen Vincent, Sean?" His voice was heavy with a passive-aggressive tone.

The blonde heard an almost inaudible gulp across the line. "I'm not sure wh't your talkin' 'bout, Elijah."

"Really, because I just got a call from a kid named Elliot who was on last night's Lower East Side assignment with you, and he said that a team member by the name of Vincent Torvus was caught last night." The line was silent again.

"I woulda' put it in the report."

A short, humorless chuckle left Elijah's mouth, "You know what, I'm going to ask you an even simpler question to answer: Did everyone return to the compound after the assignment?"

"No, sir," was the only answer that Elijah received.

"See, that wasn't so hard," a smirk crept across Elijah's face as he began the next question. "Who didn't return to the compound?"

A grumble sounded into the blonde's ear, just quiet enough that he couldn't understand what the man had said.

Elijah cleared his throat. "What was that?"

The man on the other end answered with another incomprehensible grumble. "One more time, Sean. And please enunciate for God's sake."

"Vincent Torvus."

Elijah finally sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. How was it possible that this man could make such a simple task so draining.

"And why, pray tell, wasn't it in last night's report that someone was captured?"

"'Cause he was a whining pup 'bout how the rain 'as cold, sir," Sean spat the sentence out, venom lacing every word and a growl behind the word sir.

Elijah nodded, a short hum coming from his throat, "Oh, I'm really hoping you're not using that tone with me." He smiled, mostly because it was amusing to him that a creature could be so bothered by another that he just up and abandoned the other.

"An' what if I am?" Sean was testing how much dominant ground he could gain, something that alpha male Skinwalkers sometimes did, though Elijah thought that Sean knew better than to challenge him even slightly.

"Sean, you've been demoted to cleanup duty. You're eligible to try to make your way back up through the ranks, but just so you know," Elijah paused, _"I'll make it a hell of a lot of work to make it back to the rank you were previously at."_

"You, you can't do that," Sean stuttered out, "You're not the pack leader! All you do is give us food and make us work for you." Elijah could hear him growling through the phone.

"I run Manhattan, Sean, and I'd rather not have worthless rats at a level even close to mine. Also, I make sure hunters don't wipe out your whole pack. I'm the only thing that stands between them and you. I'm what keeps you and all the supernaturals of this city fed and safe. If you don't want to comply to what I have to say about you being demoted, I can personally escort you out of the city. _Permanently."_ Elijah waited for an answer, and for the sake of Sean's life, he was hoping it was one of compliance.

"Yes, sir." With those two words, Sean hung up before either could say another word.

Elijah wordlessly put the phone into his front trouser pocket and shrugged on the jacket he had retrieved from the closet during the first phone call. He picked up the brown, leather dog collar and matching leash which had been retrieved from the closet at the same time as when he had gotten his coat. The leash and collar stuffed into his coat pocket, he turned the lights of the kitchen off and he was off to find an animal shelter in the Lower East Side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of the first part. I guess how this is being split up right now is that each scene is going into a different chapter. Not sure how I like it, but it's better than having one chapter take a damn long time to read. It also means that I would be able to update faster.  
> (This note was from Wattpad and on that Fanfiction site your main readers are usually going to be on mobile, so you aim for 2000 to 3000 word chaps. I eventually said _fuck it_ and wrote a 9000 word thing. It put me a good week behind schedule.)


	3. Chapter 1-Part 2

Elijah stood in front of the animal control and care center that would've had people on call for the area that Vincent and the others had been in. It was his first choice, and he was pretty confident that he would find Vincent inside.

He ascended up the front stairs of the building towards the front door, his hands shoved deep within his pocket, one of them gripping the leash and collar.

The rain of last night still hung heavy in the air; puddles were evident on sidewalks and roads, but the sky had begun to clear. Rays of sun gleaned through breaks in the wispy, grey clouds of the late morning.

Elijah reached the heavy mahogany door of the shelter and ran a hand through his bangs, fluffing them a bit before smirking slightly and throwing the door open, entering into the front reception area of shelter.

A small bell rang and a women looked up from behind a desk near the back of the reception area, though this area also seemed to double as a supply shop for numerous animals.

Elijah smiled towards the women, pulling the door closed behind him.

"Hi, yes, I'm here about a dog?" The women looked up from her computer and peered over her glasses at him.

"Really?" Sarcasm leaked from every fiber of her being as she deadpanned the question.

Elijah let out a short, awkward laugh. "Not much else to come about other than cats I guess..."

The woman blinked once. "You got something in particular you're looking for or do I have to give you an adoption application form?"

"Oh, no, my dog got out last night in the storm. I live down near Orchard Street." One lie.

"We didn't get any dogs with tags in last night. I did all the paperwork for the newcomers."

"My nephew got his collar off before he bolted and I didn't notice till I went for the leash." Two lies.

Elijah pulled the collar from his pocket and showed it to the woman.

"You know what he looks like?"

"Yeah, he's a German Shepherd Husky mix. Blue eyes, standard German Shepherd coat look on his back with a cream color from the bottom of his muzzle to his belly." And a truth.

"Maryl!" The woman called to what Elijah presumed was some backroom with a worker who could help him find the dog.

A worker popped her head out of a door behind the desk. "Yeah, Ma'?"

"This guy's the owner of that dog you an' John brought in last night."

"The one with the really pretty eyes?"

The woman ran a hand over her face and sighed. "If that's the one that came in last night from near Orchard Street, then yes. Take him back there to see if the dog's his. Kennel number fourteen if this sheet is right," the women stated while reading a sheet from a clipboard.

The women who had stuck her head out of the backdoor, Maryl as the woman had called her, smiled to him, exited the door she was standing in, and motioned for him to follow her to a different door.

"You got a name?"

"Elijah."

"That's a biblical name, right?" She questioned as they reached the different door. Loud barks could be heard from behind it.

Elijah smiled brightly (though in actuality every smile after the smirk that had dropped from his face before he opened the door was fake), "I think so; my dad was pretty religious."

"Oh, well, it's a nice sounding name, biblical or not," she said, smiling while opening the door to a small room with a few leashes, collars, and a door that presumably lead into the place where the dogs were kept.

She closed the door behind him, shutting them into the room temporarily, the sound of barking louder than ever. Placing a hand on the next door, Maryl rose her voice so that she could be heard, "Sorry, it's a bit loud!" Elijah just smiled with closed lips and nodded.

She opened the door and the barks just got louder, "They're just excited-" she stopped short of saying her sentence when Elijah entered the kennel room and the barks fell silent. "That's weird..." She mumbled, closing the door behind her, the latch clicking in the silent room. She glanced down the walkway between the kennels and scratched the back of her neck.

"Well... I'll lead you to kennel fourteen."

"Have they ever done this before?" Elijah questioned as they walked down the corridor of kennels, dogs on either side watching him silently. He knew very well why they had reacted so strangely.

"No, and I know damn well that this many dogs don't just up and stop barking."

"Well, at least it's quiet," Elijah mused as they neared a kennel with the number fourteen zip-tied to the chain-link.

"Here's the handsome boy!" Maryl's voice rose in pitch as she crouched to the ground to be on the same level as the dog, Elijah standing behind her.

The dog, identical to what Elijah had described, perked his ears at the sound, his head rising to survey the both of them. From behind Maryl Elijah mouthed the words,  "Make it look real,"  to the dog, a cheeky smile akin to the one that had dominated his face before entering the building. The dog huffed (the expression would have been made complete if dog's could roll their eyes), though not noticeably, before going absolutely mental with happiness. Elijah new it was an act, but Maryl was convinced.

"Woah!" She laughed, "Well someone's excited to be going home!" She was still addressing the dog. She turned her head behind her to Elijah, his cheeky grin replace with a simple smile. "He is definitely your dog; me and my brother John couldn't get him to do anything, much less be this excited."

"Really? He's actually really well trained," Elijah crouched and gripped the chain-link door with one hand, the other falling between his legs. "Has somebody been a naughty boy?" Elijah babied through the door as the dog licked his hand happily through the fence. "Sit," Elijah commanded, and the dog sat.

"Wow," Maryl was impressed. "He is trained." It is considerably hard to get an over excited dog to sit immediately after one verbal command.

Elijah chuckled, standing, and dismissing the dog with the wave of his hand, causing it to go back to jumping at the door, its tail wagging at an immeasurable rate.

"Well, all you have to do sign some release papers and you can take him home." Maryl grabbed the clipboard that hung next to the door and proceeded to open the kennel.

The dog leapt from the kennel, pouncing onto Elijah, his paws nearly reaching his shoulders. He made a few licks towards Elijah's face, but remained unsuccessful. "Come on Vinney! We talked about this!" Elijah laughed, half-heartedly trying to push the dog down.

"So, Vinney's his name?" Maryl questioned.

"Yup." That one wasn't a complete lie, though Maryl did smile and say it was cute. Vinney's collar and leash were eventually put on and they were both walking towards the heavy, mahogany front door after signing all the necessary paperwork, Vinney trotting happily at Elijah's side as they exited.

Once out the door, both of their demeanors changed dramatically. Elijah went back to having a cheeky grin plastered across his face, and Vinney seemed annoyed. Exasperated maybe?

Vinney made a huffing noise towards Elijah. "Yes, it was necessary that I come get you. You might have presented as an alpha, but the East Pack's treating you like an omega. Nobody would have come to get you." Vinney grumbled. "Would you at least try not to piss them off." This went on, Elijah would say something and Vinney would react with a small sound, though the important points of the 'one-sided' conversation included the following (all of which are in order, just some of Elijah's statements are not included):

"Why, yes, Vinney," Elijah used the name sarcastically, "I could get us home much faster, but I rather like how quiet you are as a dog."

"Oh, touchy. Doggy wants to be called by his real name: Vincent?"

"I talk like that because it weirds you out."

"Already asking about food? Really?"

"Well I'm sorry, maybe you should have gotten caught by a shelter that gives human food to dogs, because that's definitely how it works."

"Don't tell me not to be a smart-ass; I'm only like this because you make it too easy to be one."

"Yes, there are clothes back at the apartment. Did you think I dumped all you stuff into the street because you didn't come home one night."

"I know you don't live there anymore and that you haven't stayed overnight in weeks."

"I thought it would be nice; just in case."

"I wasn't hoping you'd come back."

"I wasn't."

"Drop the topic or I'll drop you at the compound with all the friends I know you made."

"Don't use that language with me young man."

"What do you mean you're only 3 years younger than me? I might look twenty-six, but that's just because I'm aging well."

"Don't call me 'old man'."

"Asking if I need a cane isn't funny."

"Okay, calling me grandpa is just plain weird."

"And we're back to you complaining about how hungry you are."

"Fine, I'll take us back the quick way if you'll stop talking about how hungry you are."

With that, Elijah took them back to the 'apartment' as they had come to regard it, though really it was just the renovated basement of a tenement building turned coffee shop. Elijah had made a deal with the owners that he would renovate the basement out of his pocket if they didn't ask any questions about what he did down there. He also paid rent on time, which sweetened the deal.

Elijah looped his hand through the leash and pulled his keys from his pocket, made his way down the small number of steps from the street to the double doors, unlocked said doors, and in rushed Vincent, the dog. He was still on the leash so he couldn't make it very far.

Elijah flicked on the lights of the kitchen-entryway combination before he crouched to Vincent's level so that he could unclip the leash from his neck.

"I put some clothes in the bathroom," Elijah, removing his shoes, informed Vincent who sprinted through the door to the un-lit bathroom. Said bathroom door was also closed by the dog. Some how.

"Hey! What did I say about running in the house!" Elijah called to the bathroom.

"That if I do it again, you'll smite my ass," a voice answered back shortly after from the bathroom, light flooding from underneath the door. "I'm not really feeling the heavenly wrath, though." The voice chuckled and the sound of shuffling clothes and a belt could be heard faintly from the closed room.

"Yeah, whatever," Elijah answered as he sat back down at the kitchen island, putting his magnifying goggles back on and fiddling with the glove again. "I wasn't going to waste my morning getting you out of the shelter just to obliterate you."

"Sounds like something you'd do." Elijah rolled his eyes. "What? No comeback, blondie?"

Elijah pushed the goggles up us face to the top of his head, rubbing a hand over his face. He walked to the door of the bathroom. "You done getting dressed pretty boy or do you need help?" Elijah smirked and crossed his arms over his chest as he stood in front of the bathroom door.

The door to bathroom swung open forcefully, a young man with unruly, autumn brown hair a bit shorter than Elijah's stood in the doorway. The collar of his dress shirt messed up and the shirt was also untucked from his casual black pants. In his hand he held a black bow-tie.

"What is this?" he growled, shoving the bow-tie closer to Elijah's face. He took it from his hand.

"It's a bow-tie."

"Yeah, no shit," the young man was shorter than Elijah, not by much, but enough so that he had to tilt his head up to make eye-contact with him. "Why was it in with the clothes you laid out?" He was still glaring at Elijah.

"Because I thought you should wear it," Elijah looped the bow-tie around the young man's collar, pulling him closer by the fabric and beginning to tie it.

"Oh hell no," and with those words the young man had pushed Elijah away slightly and pulled the half-tied bow-tie from his neck. "You can keep that shit."

"Come on Vinney, just put it on." Elijah pleaded.

"No." Vinney, or Vincent as he preferred, walked past Elijah toward the kitchen island to examine the pieces strewn haphazardly over the counter-top for a distraction. Elijah sighed dejectedly and watched Vincent from behind.

"Somebody was able to keep busy over the weekend without me," Vincent commented as he picked up a stray piece of silver-colored metal and changed the subject of their conversation. "Hey, what is this stuff? It looks like silver, but it doesn't burn."

Elijah took the piece from Vincent and placed it down. "It's melted down angel-blade."

"You melted down an angel-blade?"

"I was bored, you were gone for the weekend." Vincent laughed slightly at Elijah's answer to his question.

"Wow, I mean I know how impulsive you can be from staying here for a week, but melting down an angel-blade just to mess around with?"

"I calculated the risks, found none, and said what the hell. Also, I'm not impulsive, I just know how to take risks."

Vincent snorted. "What's it gonna be Eli?"

"Well, Vincent, I'm so glad you asked," Elijah picked up the finger-less glove with bits of the metal on it and put it on his left hand. His fingers fit into the metal snuggly, creating an effect of claws or blades on each finger. Metal continued down the glove to secure each piece to the glove and the other pieces of metal. It was incomplete, the thumb and ring finger barren of metal. "I'm making an easily concealable way for me to wield the metal of an angel-blade."

"I will say it's cool, but did you actually spend the entire weekend on that," Vincent used his hand to reference to the glove on Eli's hand.

Eli cracked a bright smile while undoing the buckle of the glove, "I'll take that as a compliment, now," he said as he placed the glove on the island and grabbed his coat, throwing Victor a worn, dark brown leather jacket, "I promised you food, so why don't we go get lunch," he finished. He rolled down his sleeves and fixed the cuffs before pulling on his thick wool blazer that came to his hips and collar that folded around his neck.

Vincent on the other hand still stood holding the jacket Eli had given him. "You had this?"

Eli looked up from his tie, which at the moment he was trying to fix. "Yeah?"

"I thought it was gone."

"It was," Elijah said, finished fixing his tie, "I got it back."

"How in hell did you manage that?" Vincent asked, shaking his head as he shrugged on the leather jacket, fitting nicely over his shoulders.

"Long story," Eli answered, "Now, do you want to go to that burger place down the street, or do you want to go someplace else?"

Vincent and Eli made their way to the burger place down the street, Vincent's favorite actually, walking side-by-side. Smiling and making humorous jabs at each other as they walked the short distance in the afternoon air of New York City. It was loud, noisy, sometimes smelly, but Eli loved it. He loved how it all just... Worked. Everything had a place and a job that made everything happen.

The burger place wasn't busy, but it wasn't empty. They had sat in a wall booth, one across from the other. Vincent had ordered the same burger he always got, even though it had been a while since he had gotten the chance. It was the same place Eli had taken him when he first found him, cold, hungry, and alone.

Eli didn't order anything, per usual of any place they went out to eat at.

"So, Vincent," Elijah began to Vincent, "there a reason I had to get you out of that shelter?"

Vincent gave him a bitch face, but Eli's grin never faltered. "It's not my fault they up and left me," he muttered under his breath.

"I demoted Sean because he failed to mention anything about it in his report."

"You did what?" Vincent asked, bewilderment covering his face.

"Demoted him to cleanup duty. Is something wrong with that?" He tilted his head to the side as he mumbled the last sentence quietly.

"Yes!" Vincent whisper-yelled, as to not upset the quiet restaurant, "He's gonna make it impossible for me to be part of that pack!" He dragged a hand over his face and sighed. "So much for your 'knowing how to take risks.'"

"I guess you'll just have to start staying with me full-time again," Elijah cracked a smile, not much of one, but enough that Vincent was able to catch it.

"Wait one fucking minute,"  Vincent began, his jaw slack. "You knew I wouldn't be able to merge with the pack if such a high-ranking scout was demoted. All so that I would stay full-time at your place."

"Got me," Elijah let the smile consume his whole face.

Vincent hung his head smiling, a laugh breaching his lips slightly, "I'm not sure if I should be flattered or angry."

"I encourage you to choose the flattered option as I planned on reacting better to that one."

"This is what I get for working with a war and battle statistical analysis consultant."

"A new housemate? Because that's what I got."

Vincent shook his head. "Man, you are an insufferable asshole."

"Yet you keep on coming back," Elijah finished as the waitress placed Vincent's food in front of him. His eyes sparkled.

"You better be paying, ass."

Elijah did pay for Vincent's meal. Just like every other meal.

They went back to the apartment after Vincent finished eating, and stayed there for a couple of hours. They had decided they would retrieve Vincent's stuff from the compound tomorrow.

Elijah was almost done with the glove, merely fiddling with the mechanisms at this point, and Vincent was still in the shower, though he had only entered the shower twenty minutes ago. Elijah's phone rang on the marble, much like when Elliot had called him before he had gone to find Vincent. He answered as the shower cut off.

Vincent exited the shower, pulling the curtain back, hardly seeing himself in the steamed mirror of the bathroom. He pulled the soft towel from the wall and dried himself, rubbing the towel over his hair, trying to get it dry, though it was in vain. He sighed, dressing himself as he heard Elijah talking to someone. He pulled his belt through the loops of his dark black jeans, doing the buckle up and pulled on his undershirt next. He did the buttons of his dress shirt, making sure the collar was straight before lifting the leather jacket up to look at it. He smiled.

"That's a story I'm gonna want to hear," he spoke softly to himself before pulling the jacket on and making his way out of the bathroom.

Elijah had just hung up his cellphone and was grabbing his coat.

"Who was that?" Vincent asked from the doorway that lead to the master bed and bath.

"The police."

"Really? What did they want?"

Eli shoved the glove into his coat pocket before answering Vincent's question. "They found some bodies down near Orchard Street in the Lower East Side. Said it looked up my alley."

"Wait, isn't that where you had the scouting mission last night?" Vincent asked, following Eli as he made his way to the door.

"Did you ever figure out what it was that was out there?"

"It was a full moon, but from what little of its smell I could catch, it smelled like a ghoul."

"Great," Elijah sighed out. "We're gonna take the fast way; I'd rather get there before the newspapers start showing up."

With those words, they left for the crime scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of part two. Much hooray. I don't have much written for the next part (can't really remember since I've been sick), but I'll be posting what is written so that my beta reader can get to it.


	4. Chapter 1-Part 3

They found themselves outside a large parking garage, the entrance blocked off with police tape and a pair of police guards. Elijah walked swiftly towards them, Vincent jogging slightly to keep up with Eli's swift pace.

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to stay on the outside of the yellow tape," one of the officers stepped forward to stop Eli and Vincent at the tape.

"I'm a consultant; Police Captain Nicolson called me in," Elijah answered, stopping at the tape. The officer who had asked him to stay behind the tape eyed him suspiciously.

"Right... Jerry, you ever heard of Nicolson calling in a consultant to a crime scene?"

"Only some stories 'bout a guy who would solve the weird cases for 'em. The ones where people would be completely mauled with their hearts or throats missing. Stuff like that." Eli sighed.

"Could you just call him up and tell him we're here so he can give us clearance."

The officer who had spoken to Eli first pulled his radio from his chest. "You two got names?"

"I'm Elijah and this is Vincent." The officer nodded, pressed a button, and began to speak.

"Nicolson, I've got two guys up here named Elijah and Vincent saying you called them here as consultants. Can I let them in? Over." The officer lifted his finger from the button. "Now let's see if your little story is-" he was cut off by a crackling through the speaker of his radio.

_"Already? That was quick. Send 'em down here. Over."_  Elijah smiled, lifting the police tape for Vincent to walk under before going under himself.

"It was nice to meet you boys; crime scene's on the bottom level?" Elijah asked once on the other side of the tape.

"Uh, yeah," Jerry stuttered out. Elijah nodded and both he and Vincent made their way to the elevator. The officers watched them as they left, the officer who had spoken on the radio called in that they were on their way down.

"You think those are the guys they use on the weird cases?" Jerry asked as he returned to his station.

"Why do you even listen to those stories?"

Jerry looked to the other officer. "But what if they were. I mean, did you see the bodies? Mikey said they had huge chunks out of 'em like something had been eating them. This is a city, Frank! We don't have anything that could do that."

Frank shook his head. "You're getting yourself worked up over nothing. Mikey tells all those stories to the rookies."

Jerry went back to facing forward towards the outside. "Sure."

Meanwhile, Vincent and Elijah were exiting the elevator. Vincent inhaled deeply before coughing, almost gagging.

"Oh, that smells nasty," he covered his nose, his eyes watering.

Elijah pulled the collar of his coat over his nose and muttered, "Tell me about."

They were greeted by Nicolson who gave them both a surgical mask to cover their mouth and nose, plastic gloves, and shoe covers. Nicolson was a graying man, though he still kept his full head of hair with him. He had a small scar under his left eye that he had gotten when he first joined the force, and subsequently when he had met Elijah for the first time. They had been working in tandem for years on cases that would have gone cold if Elijah hadn't been called in.

"Here are the stiffs; they're gonna be brought to the morgue soon, but I thought it would make your job easier if I let you look at them while they were still at the crime scene," Nicolson stated as peopled mulled about the scene, some taking pictures and others swabbing, sweeping, or examining.

"When did you find them?" Elijah asked, peeking over a person to get a better look at one of the two victims.

"Witness says that he had been hearing weird noises for a few days and that he eventually thought there were just some junkies so he called the owner. Owner came down to take a look, got hit by the smell, and found the bodies soon after. That's when we got the call and when the owner closed down the garage."

"They've been dead for three days at least, but something a lot bigger than a rat's been feeding on those bodies from what I can tell," Vincent added. Elijah nodded.

"Have you figured out who they are?" Elijah asked as he turned his back from the crime scene.

"Brother and sister who went missing from the area about a week ago, but the weird part is that the parents called us yesterday to say they had called to say they were out in Ohio and not to look for 'em. The couple said that the number wasn't displayed so the dad left for Ohio this morning to start looking there. I just had someone call the mother to have her try to identify the bodies, but they did have ID on them saying who they were," Nicolson finished clueing the pair in on the grim situation that seemed unable to phase Elijah while Vincent only seemed bothered by the smell.

"Well, Nicolson, this does seem to be up our alley," Elijah smiled under the mask and clasped his gloved hands together, "I'll get you a dead, rabid dog for cover up and I'll take care of the real thing, just like all the other cases you call me in for." Elijah's voice was hushed as he spoke of the deal. "I'll tell you when it's been taken care of."

Elijah and Vincent shook hands with the captain and left the scene in the elevator.

It was quiet in the elevator as they both removed the gloves, masks, and shoe covers.

"Man, did it stink of ghoul in there," Vincent inhaled deeply of the cleaner air of the elevator before sniffing his clothes, a grimace covering his face as he recoiled from the clothes. "And I just took a shower too," he added in a sad mumble.

"At least we know what we need to look for. I'll have Skinwalker patrols upped around this area to look for any unfamiliar ghouls. Hey, who do you think I should ask for a dog?"

"Crowley, definitely," Vincent commented as he sniffed his clothes again, the same expression coming over his face. "That demon could get a rabid dog in a heartbeat, and from what I remember, he owes you a favor."

Eli nodded, "I'll make some calls when we get back." They exited the elevator together, throwing the masks, shoe covers, and gloves into a nearby waste bin before making their way towards the exit. "By the way," Eli began as he shoved his hands into his pocket, though he abandoned the idea when he realized he still had the metal glove in his pocket and that it was much too bulky for him to comfortably rest his hand in the pocket, "Can you call Roy and tell him that the pack life wasn't really working for you and that you'll be moving in with me? I already called him today to tell him I demoted Sean and breaking more 'bad' news to him could end with me eaten by a pack of Skinwalkers."

Vincent scoffed, ducking under the tape and lifting it for Eli, "Like you couldn't fight them off."

"You couldn't," Elijah added as they made their way down the sidewalk, "And if I was them, I'd go for pressure points first."

Vincent rolled his eyes. "How smart do you think Skinwalker's are?" His voice was laced with a familiar sarcasm.

"You're pretty smart." Vincent shook his head with a sigh as he rolled his eyes again.

"What am I going to do with you?" A wicked grin crept its way across Elijah's face, Vincent seeing it from the corner of his eye and already knowing what it meant. "Don't you even-"

"You can do anything you want with me."

"You're a jerk and I might have to punch you in the face for that."

"Remember the last time you tried to punch me in the face?" Eli asked as they rounded a corner, Eli leading the way.

Vincent rubbed the knuckles of his right hand, chuckling slightly as he reminisced on some memory. "Yeah," he stuck his hands back into the pockets of his jeans, "I think I broke my hand when I did that." They both laughed.

"Do you want to actually walk home for once?" Elijah asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

"I don't think we've ever actually done that for anything other than the diner." A smile glowed from Vincent's face. They were enjoying themselves as they would when Vincent would stay late, even after Eli had said that he could go home. Vincent had never felt more at home in Manhattan as when he was be Eli's side, though. Not when he slept in his room at the compound, which was drafty and dull, or when he spent time with the other Skinwalkers. His home was with Elijah, and he was glad he had an excuse to come back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turns out I was done with this part (celebration?). I don't believe this parts been read by my beta reader, so it's subject to change. Really, anything that I've written here is subject to change.
> 
> Edit: It's been a couple of weeks since I wrote this but really when I say change, I mean minor stuff like a few words or something. I'm way too lazy to rewrite something. Except maybe the Chapter One Prologue. That thing... I need to set aside some time to figure out how to even fix that if I'm not too lazy. Which I am.


	5. Chapter 1-Part 4

Eli and Vincent had walked to the apartment just like they had said they would, the short walk entertaining for both. Once they had arrived, Vincent went straight for the shower. He couldn't stand the stench of the ghouls on him. The stench was sour, comparable to a ripe corpse, and it suffocated his own scent along with also making it harder for him to pick up scents around him.

He closed the bathroom door that connected to the kitchen, turned the shower on, and opened the door that lead into the master bedroom (and the only bedroom) of the apartment. He shed his jacket and stalked towards the dresser near the door that connected to the kitchen. He opened the first drawer, pulling out the outfit he had left in case he ever needed to stayed at Eli's. The clothes Eli had given him, other than the jeans and the leather jacket, were all Eli's. Especially the bow-tie. 

Vincent stripped of the rest of his clothes and threw them into a hamper near the door. Grabbing the outfit, he continued to the bathroom door, shut it, and locked it. He pulled the shower curtain back and stepped into the shower, closing the curtain on his already steamed image in the mirror.

The water fell over him, dulling the smell that clung to him. He scrubbed his hair and body vigorously, desperately trying to at least cover the scent of rotting corpse. Humans wouldn't be able to notice it, but most supernatural creatures would definitely be able to. If he were to show up to the compound smelling like this, he'd most definitely been mocked, even attacked. It had happened to him before. Getting covered with the scent of other supernatural creatures was part of working with Eli.

It was part of the reason the pack hadn't been accepting him. He smelled too much like different creatures too often, but the one scent that was on him the most was Eli's. Eli's scent wasn't bad, not at all. His scent was a mostly human, though it was almost sweet, like sugar-water. Vincent didn't mind it, but the other Skinwalkers would always notice.

In most of the East Pack, Eli was regarded as a landlord, if anything. The pack had been in the area for years before Eli approached them with an offer. An offer that would in turn bring a drastic decline in death by hunters. Hunters were a problem for any supernatural creature, or monster as they were so disdainfully regarded as by the rest of the world. Hide or get found. Get found, get killed. Those were the rules of the game that all the creatures of Manhattan had been playing by for years before Elijah came along.

Eli had proposed to the East Pack that he would provide food, safety, and shelter in exchange for being his enforcers. A group that could move undetected through the borough quickly. Eli had told Vincent he had been watching all congregating groups of creatures, and that after two months of watching, the East Pack had been the most promising for what he would need. Vincent had commented about how maybe two months was a bit overkill, but that was before he knew how thorough Eli had learned to be in his previous occupation.

Eli soon took control of the city with the help of Skinwalker patrols giving him information on where creatures lived and how many were contained within the borough. First, he had gone to the top demon of Manhattan (Crowley wasn't King of Hell yet and with Lucifer still in the Cage so the demons were a relativity self governed society), saying that he was going to be the person to run the city and that he would be giving the demons a negotiable territory of Harlem. He didn't comply, but after some 'persuasion' as Eli put it (lets just say individual demon occupation fell drastically), the deal came through with the Demons set to occupy Harlem. After Crowley came into power, negotiations were held and the Demons came into control of all territory above Harlem.

The Angels had been next on his list, and those negotiations were a breeze, but at the current time Angels have begun to be seen less and less in their territory, the East and West sides. Eli has given them a warning that if they fail to lay claim to the territory at the annual summit, he'll open the area back up to the other creatures since they could definitely use the extra room.

Concentration of the creatures that weren't as central to another 'agency' (i.e. Heaven or Hell) had always been concentrated in the lower parts of Manhattan. Eli had gone to them last, informing them they would receive care and safety should they agree to the terms of the agreement, which were that they would not kill humans that they were not given explicit permission to kill and that fighting between groups would not result in bloodshed. After settling any uproar that resulted, he let them sort out whatever boundaries they needed on their own. He also kept an eye on any creatures that were in the Angel or Demon territories, though over the years they had migrated to the area he had designated for them.

Everything worked like clockwork, with the occasional hiccup in the system which resulted in incidences like what Vincent and Elijah were currently taking care of with the rogue ghouls. Usually, newbies didn't get in without somebody knowing since Elijah had Skinwalkers posted at each entrance to the island. It did happen though. It was problems like these that would result in hunter sightings, and the occasional death of a supernatural creature.

Vincent finally deemed himself clean. Well... He smelled of soap and lots of it. He shut the shower off and began to dry himself before pulling his clothes on. He took a deep breath of the warm air, noticing a strange scent coming from near the door to the kitchen. He inched closer, crouching and inhaling again before identifying the scent as a Demon's. He opened the cabinet under the sink, pulling a silver-colored angel-blade from its hidden place under the lip.

He tentatively grasped the door knob, some of his dark brown hair still wet and sticking to his forehead, his feet bare, and his over shirt unbuttoned showing to show his under shirt. He narrowed his stark blue eyes and adjusted his grip on the angel-blade. He turned the door knob.

And he entered the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm going to end this part here (cliffhanger, I know, but it's just some cheap tension that I'm not proud of) mostly because I have school work to do. Hopefully I'll get into a habit of getting stuff out on a steady schedule. Anyways, as always, this chapter is subject to change (and there is a high chance of there being change since I'm not sure if I really like the flow of this part. idk.) I might actually not have this cut/cliffhanger kind of thing since this is so short. Btw, the summit thing that got mentioned for one second will get explained and covered.
> 
> A/N: So I just spent twenty minutes deciding how to write the last sentence of this part, and I'm still not happy with the outcome. The sentence will probably change.
> 
> Edit (from the future... spoopy): I actually still like this part's flow and such lol. I wasn't really cringing a whole lot too.


	6. Chapter 1-Part 5

The door swung open into the kitchen, a loud bang sounding as it hit the wall and bounced slightly. Vincent stood in a defensive position, the angel-blade readied at his side and his brows drawn together.

Crowley stood next to the kitchen island, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his long coat. Eli was nearby, sitting in on a stool with his arms crossed. On the island lie a dead dog. They looked to Vincent, both of their words falling short.

"Call your dog off, feathers?" Crowley's accented voice broke the silence. Eli laughed softly, hanging his head and shaking it slightly. Vincent's face flushed in embarrassment as he stood up straight.

"Sorry, Mr. Crowley," Vincent began as we walked back into the bathroom to place the angel-blade back under the sink, "I didn't expect there to be a demon in the apartment."

"Took you long enough to notice," Elijah commented from his seat at the spinning stool. He hadn't changed positions, his arms still crossed over his chest and one foot resting on the step of the stool.

"So," Vincent entered the kitchen again, shaking his hair of excess moisture to some extent, "You do know we eat of that counter, right?" He motioned to the dead dog on the kitchen island. It was large, with dark matted fur and menacing teeth that undoubtedly could have torn a normal human to bits. He sniffed the air once, the scent of soap, the sweet scent of Elijah, the sour scent of Crowley, and a hint of rabies coming from the dead animal. "Didn't think Crowley could get a dead rabid dog this quick."

"I deliver, but if we could get back to the agreements, Elijah," Crowley, turned on his heel to look at Eli again.

"Right. I'll call Nicolson up and tell him I've got the dog, you drop it off, and it's one less favor you owe me." Elijah stood, pulling his phone from his trouser pocket. "I'll go make the call. You two play nice." Elijah began to tap on the screen and stepped into the bedroom for privacy.

"So, Crowley," Vincent began cheekily, "how's Hell?"

"It's fine, mutt." Crowley had never been a 'fan' of Vincent. They always had a passive aggressive banter that went on between the two. Pin-pointing the exact reason they didn't like each other was troublesome, but the closest thing Elijah could find as a reason was that Crowley didn't like Skinwalkers (something about them being too shifty and that they made it hard for him to do anything in secrecy in the borough) and Vincent wasn't fond of Demons, which was understandable.

"What about those hunters you're so fond of?" Crowley looked at Vincent out of the corner of his eye, glaring at him. Vincent smirked. "Skinwalker," he said, referencing to himself, "I hear stuff."

"Stick your nose where it doesn't belong and it'll get cut off."

Vincent sighed, walking towards the cabinets and pulled a bottle of scotch and two glasses out. "Drink?"

"I won't be staying long." Crowley wasn't hoping to stay long. He would never admit it, but Eli scared him. Crowley knew what Eli was capable of, and that if Eli wanted to, he could play the world into anyone's hand. He knew he only busied himself with Manhattan because he was bored with planning and winning wars for others.

"We've got your favorite," Vincent tempted, holding the bottle so that Crowley could read it. It was Craig, aged thirty years. Crowley eyed Vincent and the bottle skeptically. His eyes squinted and his lips parted to form the expression he made when weighing options.

"Sure..." Vincent set the glasses down and poured some scotch into each glass. He closed the bottle and carried a glass to Crowley, offering it to him. Crowley accepted the glass, and Vincent took a sip of his drink. Crowley followed, Elijah entering the room again after finishing his phone call.

Once the drink touched Crowely's lips, it immediately burned him. He dropped the glass and it shattered loud against the hard tile floor.

"You put holy water in my drink!" Crowley exclaimed, his voice rising ever so slightly in pitch.

"That's," Vincent poked a finger into Crowley's chest, "for giving me a silver rimmed glass." Crowley narrowed his eyes at Vincent. "Your move, hell-bound."

Elijah coughed, announcing his presence. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Nothing at all," Crowley answered with a fake smile and a small nod. "Just dropped my glass on accident. So, can I send the body to get dropped off?"

"Yeah, Nicolson says he'll be out back with someone to help carry it in." Elijah put his phone back into his pocket. "If there are any complications, just contact me." Crowley disappeared a few short seconds later, along with the body of the dead dog. Elijah walked towards Vincent, eyeing the broken glass on the floor before looking towards Vincent with a raised brow. "Are you winning?"

"I don't, uh, know what you're talking about," Vincent played dumb.

"The little prank-war between you and Crowley. Don't act like you don't know." Elijah crossed his arms.

"Maybe? I'm not really sure." Elijah shook his head.

"Rookie," he muttered under his breath. "I'm going to let this ride and evaluate you once somebody wins. If Crowley comes to me and tells me to tell you to stop, you win, but if you give up, he wins."

"Are you going to help me?"

"Not at all." Elijah smiled devilishly. "Get this cleaned up and make sure you call Roy. Then you can do what you want since we'll be doing nothing till we get any word on unknown ghouls."

"Sure thing, boss," Eli eyed him strangely when he called him boss since he had never called him that before. Vincent shook his head, chuckling, before cleaning up the mess that had been caused by his prank on Crowley.

Elijah put away the bottle of scotch and pulled out a map, lying it over part of the island. He starred places with a pencil while Vincent cleaned. "Looking for possible hide-outs?" Vincent asked.

"Yup." He sighed. "There are a lot though, even if we narrow it down to the area around Orchard Street and the parking garage there's so many places they could be. We're just going to have to wait for a report."

Vincent nodded, making a noise of agreement as he finished his glass of scotch before cleaning and drying the glass. He looked to the clock in the kitchen. "I'm going to go to sleep. I was out late on the Orchard Street outing and the kennel wasn't ideal for sleeping." He yawned. "If you need anything, just wake me up." Elijah nodded, not looking up from the map, holding the pencil between his teeth. 

Vincent left the kitchen and entered the bedroom. He turned on the bedside lamp before turning out the overhead light and cracking the door that lead to the kitchen so that light could still creep into the room. He stripped of his over shirt and pants, leaving him in his white under shirt and dark-colored underwear. He pulled the soft, white comforter back and crawled into the queen sized bed before leaning over and turning out the bedside lamp.

He had been asleep for maybe an hour when the door creaked open.

"Vincent?" Elijah whispered into the calm air.

"Yeah?" His voice was raspy from sleep, though it wasn't extreme. He cleared his throat. "What is it?"

"You didn't call Roy." Vincent sat up, turning the lamp on.

"Shit, sorry Eli. I completely forgot." He glanced around the room. "Hey can I use your phone? Mine's at the compound."

"Yeah, sure," Eli said as he pulled his phone from his pocket and tossed it to Vincent. Vincent dialed Roy's number and waited as the dial tone sounded.

 _"Elijah?"_  Roy's voice sounded into Vincent's ear. Eli was leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed as his head tilted ever so slightly to the left while he watched Vincent.

"It's actually Vincent," Vincent said into the phone, his voice still a tiny bit raspy, but enough that another alpha male could notice over the phone. Alpha male Skinwalker's voices usually deepened like that when they did...  _Things..._   **(A/N: This is so weird why am I writing something like this. Know what? This is a far as we're going to say about that this part.)**

_"Vincent? Why are you using Elijah's phone?"_

"I left my phone at the compound." A beat of silence aired between them. "Look, Roy, the reason I'm calling is to tell you life with the East Pack just hasn't been working. I'm moving in with Eli and I'll be coming to get my stuff tomorrow. It's not your fault; you did a great job helping me integrate, it just wasn't working out."

_"Oh, it's fine. I wish we could have made it work."_

"Thanks for understanding Roy."

 _"I'm happy for you both."_   Vincent's face twisted into an expression of pure confusion, his eyebrows knitting together and his lip pulling up ever so slightly.

"I don't think I understand, Roy."

 _"You and Elijah... You know, your voice was doing the thing, you're at his place and it's kind of late, whenever you would comeback to the compound we could always smell him on you..."_  Vincent's mouth hung open in disbelief. It wasn't bad that they thought him and Elijah were like that, but it was that Roy actually thought, Vincent and Eli... Did stuff like that.

"No, no, no, Roy. I'm not gay for Eli. Pack life just wasn't working out." Eli choked a bit as he heard the sentence. 

_"Oh, well, sorry about the misunderstanding... If you want I can get some people to help you move."_

"It's fine, Roy. Eli and I can get it, he just thought I should let you know. "

_"That's sweet of him. Well, you two have a good night. I guess I'll be seeing you tomorrow."_

"Yeah, goodnight Roy." Vincent sighed and hung the phone up. "Here's your phone back," he said tossing the phone to Eli.

"Do I want to know what he said?" Elijah's eyebrow was quirked as he still stood leaning against the door frame.

Vincent shook his head. "I'll tell you tomorrow. Right now, I just want to get some sleep."

"You want the door cracked?"

"You know me so well," Vincent whispered as he pulled the covers back over his shoulders, returning back to his quiet slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel accomplished since I've gotten two parts out in the same week, even though I should be studying. Well, anyways, this chapter should be over soon and the reveal of what Elijah is (even though I think I've made it really obvious, but if you still can't figure it out, maybe I'm doing my job right) will be revealed at the climax of this chapter. If I finish this chapter more than a week before Christmas, I might make a small little Christmas special thing or something like that. I might do a New Years Eve thing since they live in New York City. Btw, I don't live in NYC. I went once (a month or so ago) and have been mostly using google maps as of now to explore the city. If you think anything is weird or impossible, just comment so I can fix it. This was also my first time writing for Crowley. Not sure how OOC he is since I've been watching season 12, and it doesn't have many Crowley scenes. I do really like his character though. It's mostly his mannerisms that I like. 
> 
> Edit: Did Revisions


	7. Chapter 1-Part 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: V and E talk about the friggle fraggle (doing the do, doing _it_ ). It's nothing graphic, but I just thought I'd say that they talk about in case it makes you uncomfortable. Also, don't get your hopes up. It's just E being E.  
> Note From the Future: The writing style in the first part of this is kind of weird/different than the usual stuff.

The apartment's bedroom was still dark when Vincent woke, namely because it was underground and had no windows. I mean, Eli built it in a basement, what kind of windows are you going to have? Windows that show dirt? Just wake up, pull the curtains back and woo, would you look at that! Dirt! Such a surprise.

Really though, Vincent checked the bedside clock for the time. It was seven; earlier than he would usually get up (normal members of the East Pack were expected at breakfast by eight). The real reason Vincent was up thirty minutes early? Food. He smelled food. The one sure-fire way to get him or any other Skinwalker to do anything. 

He rolled out of bed, messily carding his fingers through his hair to tame the mess that was his bed head. He stretched, donned some sweats, and headed straight to the kitchen.

Eli was at the stove, an open carton of eggs nearby. He was dressed in the same clothes from yesterday, which have not been described to you. To mend this mistake, said clothes will be described now.

He wore a white dress shirt  **(A/N: I spelled that shit the first time)**  the sleeves pushed haphazardly up to his elbows and a dark red tie around his neck. His pants were simply black slacks held up by suspenders, of which Vincent had commented on before. Elijah's only response was mumbling, "I think they're cool." He hasn't stopped wearing suspenders. His current ones were black, but had been pushed down from his shoulders and now hung from his hips. On his feet were simple, white socks. Elijah never liked people to wear shoes in the apartment. He had never given a reason to Vincent, but he had always thought he just had a thing about dirt. We've already been over the fact that Eli has messy blond hair, though I'm not sure if we've covered the fact that his eyes are green.

They're green.

It's a forest green kind of color, but even that label doesn't really describe them. Vincent always had thought them to be Eli's most striking feature (they were one of the first things he noticed about him when they met) and Eli had thought the same about Vincent since his eyes were the same color as his dog form, a crystal blue.

That covered, we can return to the morning.

Vincent shuffled towards a chair at the island, now clear of maps and the other odd things that would litter it throughout its time as counter space. Sitting down, he crossed his arms and laid his head sideways over them. He watched Eli cooking through one eye as he drifted slowly towards a more conscious state of mind.

Eli turned the stove off and put the contents of the pan onto a plate that already contained what seemed to be some sausages. He then poured some coffee into a cup, added a splash of milk, and carried it all towards Vincent.

"Food's ready," He said as he slid the coffee and plate of scrambled eggs with sausage in front of Vincent. "And be careful this time; it's hot food you doof."

"Yeah, yeah," Vincent mumbled as he straightened in his chair and took a sip of his coffee. "Any word on where those ghouls might be?"

"No," Eli answered as he sat down across from Vincent with a cup of tea. "If there's still no word after we get your stuff from the compound we'll start looking on our own."

Vincent nodded, remembering that they had planned to get his stuff from the compound. He took another sip of his coffee and started on his food, slowly becoming more and more awake. He finished the plate quickly, ready to at least try to get the morning going.

"I've got the dishes, you go get dressed," Eli stood and took Vincent's empty plate and mug from his place at the island before dropping them into the sink and turning on the hot water. He washed the dishes quickly as Vincent dressed himself in a simple black shirt, jeans, and his leather jacket.

He exited the bedroom and turned the lights off behind him as Eli finished drying the dishes.

Eli walked towards a different, lower cabinet as he spoke to Vincent. "Hey, why did you tell Roy your not gay for me?" Vincent coughed, surprised.

"Well..." Vincent began awkwardly as Elijah crouched and opened the cabinet and examined its contents. "You know how alpha's voices get lower when they do," Vincent paused to search for the right word, _"stuff..."_

"Sex?" Elijah asked flat-out as he stood with a small vial of what looked to be white light in his hand.

"Don't say that!" Vincent flushed. Eli shut the cabinet with the back of his foot before advancing towards Vincent with a devilish smirk growing across his face.

"Does it make you uncomfortable?" Eli stopped in front off Vincent.

"Let me finish you sick pervert," Vincent hit Eli on the shoulder softly as he walked toward the coffee machine, though it was just an excuse to get away from Eli. Eli smirked wickedly as he watched a flushed Vincent walk away before he downed the vial in his hand, his eyes glowing blue for a split second.

"Anyways," Vincent continued, "my voice was lower because I had been asleep, but he didn't know that and just assumed I had been doing... That kind of stuff."

"It's okay to say it."

"I'm not going to though," Vincent narrowed his eyes.

Eli smiled with his eyes closed. "Say it with me now: Sex."

"I will bite you." Vincent was almost at the point of growling, which wasn't something that normally happened to him.

"Ooh, feisty." Eli was struggling to hold back laughter; Vincent was struggling to hold himself back.

"You," Vincent pointed a finger at Eli, "are an ass." Eli pretended to act offended while Vincent glared at him before continuing. "Since I had been coming back to the compound with your scent on me, been spending so much time with you, and since I was now moving back in with you, he just thought it was because we were mates."

"Too bad for you that it's not true; I've been told I'm pretty good in bed."

Vincent bent down to pull his shoes on near the door. "Keep it in your pants and really try since we're going to be at the compound. I know you pride yourself in your strong relationship with the East Pack and they wouldn't take lightly to the likes of you with one of their own."

"But you're not part of the pack anymore," Eli said as he pulled his suspenders back over his shoulders and donned his coat.

"Even a low-level, pack-deserter is still a Skinwalker, and they'll still protect me from something they think is wrong."

"They don't think I'm that bad, do they?" Vincent sent a dead look to Eli.

"Most of your kind think we're abominations that should be sent straight to Purgatory."

"I'm not fond of most of my kind either, I mean, they tortured me for a few millennia before I escaped and then they hunted me down before I faked my death. Only thing that stopped the majority of them from looking."

"Harsh." Vincent commented as he straightened up. "Ready to go?"

"Just let me put my shoes on." Eli pulled on his shoes and they left for the compound which housed most of the pack of the East Side.

The compound was a large renovated warehouse. When Eli had acquired it, it was dilapidated and abandoned with most of the windows broken and the whole interior of the building caked in dust. Though with the help of the Skinwalkers they had been able to fix the place up.

They walked past the stationed guards at the entrance and continued to Vincent's room. Most of the compound was heading towards breakfast, so there was some foot traffic as they made their way up the stairs. The East Pack was one of the strongest and largest packs in the North East, but they couldn't have grown as much as they had if Eli hadn't helped them.

They stood in front of the door to Vincent's room, Vincent reaching up to the ledge above the door to grab a spare key. He unlocked the door and they both entered the small, drab room.

"Not one for decorating?" Elijah commented as he glanced around the room. It contained a twin bed, a dresser, a box or two, and that was it.

"Didn't feel like home." Vincent began pulling his clothes from the dresser and putting them into one of the boxes contained in the room. Eli hummed in response and helped Vincent collect his things. It didn't take long and they were out of the room quickly, Eli carrying one box and Vincent another since all of his belongings could actually fit into two boxes (which is sad when you think about it).

They made their way down the stairs which were now relatively clear save for a couple of teens making out in the stairwell (Vincent told Eli to  keep walking, but Elijah teased him as they passed the couple, who paid them absolutely no attention since they were too caught up in each other's faces).

They were about to exit the building when they were approached by Roy.

Roy was a nice guy, older now, but nice. He had black hair with gray peppered throughout and the same went for his beard. Really though, he was just a lovable guy.

"Elijah! Vincent!" He called after them as he jogged towards them.

"Roy..." Vincent smiled, forcefully. He had been hoping to avoid an encounter.

"Good to see you both, especially you Eli," he said, shaking both of their hands (it did force them to move the boxes to their sides).

"Something you need, Roy?" Elijah questioned.

"Me," he motioned to himself, "Nah, I just wanted to tell ya' that a patrol just came in saying they caught the scent of some foreign ghouls coming from the sewers."

"Really?" Elijah inquired, his attention grasped.

"Yeah, I don't know the exact location off the top of my head, but I'll be sure to send ya' a message."

"That'd be great," Elijah was beaming, Vincent confused as to why he was so excited, though the reason was that he wanted to try out his new glove.

"Well, you two look like you need to get home. Oh, and Vincent," he grabbed Vincent's shoulder in a bone crushing grip. Vincent looked to the larger man with a slightly scared look. "Sorry if I made things awkward." Eli snickered, Vincent sending him deathly glare.

"It's fine, Alpha." Vincent bowed his head slightly, not making eye contact as such was disrespectful when addressing the Pack Alpha.

Roy let out a hearty laugh. "No need for that, Vincent. You're just a loner now; hell, I bet you could challenge me and win if you wanted to!" Vincent faked a laugh and kept his gaze pointed towards the ground.

"Well, we best be going. It was good to see you Roy. We should really get together sometime for lunch or something." Roy's grip left Vincent's shoulder.

"We should. Well, I've got to get back to keeping peace at the breakfast table. You two stay safe." Roy left the two and went back into the building.

Vincent breathed a sigh of relief. "Let's get back home."

"He freak you out that much?" Elijah chuckled as they began to walk down the street.

"For a pack-less alpha, such a strong, mated, alpha is extremely intimidating. My hormones will tell me to either try and challenge him or run with my tail between my legs depending on the day." Elijah hummed in understanding, nodding his head slightly.

"Fast way back?" Elijah question.

"Sure," Vincent agreed and they took the fast way back to the apartment.

They placed the two boxes on the ground near the island before Elijah opened a door to a backroom and disappeared for a few short seconds before returning with two machetes and the glove he had made.

"Do you think angel-blade metal works on ghouls?" Eli questioned as he placed the machetes on the island, but kept the glove in his hand.

"One way to find out." Vincent unsheathed one of the blades to examine it before sheathing it again as Elijah opened his phone to read Roy's message about where the ghouls might be.

Hopefully, they wouldn't have to resort to the weapons, but the chance of them having to was high.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of part 6. The beginning of this had a much different writing style than the rest of the parts i think, not sure though. I don't think I'll be using that style again unless I really need to fill a plot hole. Also, the scene when Eli was teasing Vincent. Really embarrassing to write. Anyways, that's part six, part seven will be the "battle" kind of scenes and such, though I've never written a fight scene, but we'll see how I do. Hopefully I do well.
> 
> A/N: After doing a read through for errors, I'm not sure how much I like the pacing in the last half of this part. I know I'm not going to rewrite it now, but it feels like it went really quick. Idk. Maybe it's because I'm ready to move on to the next chapter. I have a teaser kind of thing for the next chap (it's a song) that will be at then end of the last part of this chapter, but I really want to put it at the end of this part. I'll hold myself back (this time) but I will give you the first letter of the teaser kind of word: R. Welp, I've got tests to not study for. Hopefully part seven will be out sometime within the next week.


	8. Chapter 1-Part 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Blood. Death/dying/killing... (Why do warnings always make it look worse than it seems?)

Weapons hidden beneath their clothes (except for the angel-blade glove on Elijah's left hand, which he was excited to try out), they headed in the direction that had been specified from the text from Roy. Apparently a patrol was passing through a park when they got hit with the pungent odor that is a ghoul and whatever victim they had claimed.

Ghouls were known for their eating of freshly buried corpses, but it had been documented that they would change their feeding habits if necessary. They're comparable to zombies in the fact that the only way to keep them dead is to destroy their head and that they can take the form of the corpse they're eating, something that a more ignorant human would call coming back from the dead. They also smell like maggoty corpses, which is the main reason Vincent was so appalled by their stench (Skinwalkers prefer fresh food).

The patrol had followed the scent to a manhole cover, made note of said discovery, and returned to the compound to report, as such was protocol. Elijah would take rogue cases of the smaller nature (he speculated that this group couldn't be more than two because of the number of bodies they found in the car garage). He'd find them, try and negotiate so that they could be integrated into the community and make sure that they no longer posed a threat. Out of city supernaturals weren't known for compliance as most of them had been affected by hunters in some way, shape, or form. Supernaturals didn't have much experience with what Eli was, even encounter one, so they assumed he was human, which wasn't very smart.

Humans are a weak species, and when seemingly defenseless, were regarded as such. The supernatural would go for Eli, and end up dead within mere seconds to a few minutes depending on the species.

Elijah flexed the glove, the metal pieces sliding smoothly over each other as the pair neared the manhole cover described in the message. Elijah and Vincent each pulled out a flashlight, though Eli placed his down and pried up the manhole cover, rolling it over to the side. He took up the flashlight again.

"Ladies first," Vincent motioned to the open hole with his now lit flashlight. Elijah sighed, his breath misting into soft white clouds before he began his decent down.

They reached the bottom, Vincent jumping down as Elijah dusted of the arms of his coat. He finished and pointed his flash light around aimlessly. "Smell anything, Scooby?" Elijah questioned, his voice distracted as he glanced around the dark tunnel.

Vincent rolled his eyes in response before his flashlight illuminated the path behind Eli. "Follow me," the whisper bounced off the close, concrete walls of the sewer as he maneuvered his way around Eli and started down the tunnel, Eli close behind.

Vincent turned left and right through the endless maze off tunnels, seeming to know where he was going, though Eli was lost. This continued for a short time before Vincent stopped abruptly at an intersection, switching his flashlight off and motioning for Elijah to do the same. They stood in silence, the only sounds an occasional drip and the quiet sounds of ripping and cracking. It was a sickening sound that came from the corridor to their right in the T shaped intersection. Soft yellow light danced lightly over the floor just in front of Vincent as they stayed behind the corner, hidden in the dark.

Vincent pulled his machete from its sheath and readied himself, Elijah doing the same. Vincent inched closer to the corner. A glance back to Elijah.

A nod of agreement.

Vincent moved into the light slowly. He spared a glance at Eli who urged him on with his eyes, when the sounds came to a halt and Vincent was tackled to the ground in a split second. He let out a groan as an elbow came down hard on his temple, making sure he would be unconscious for the next minute or so.

The ghoul that had knocked Vincent out stood to her full height above his limp body, though it wasn't that tall. It was the same face as the female corpse that was in the parking garage. A male with the same face as the male from the parking garage joined her, glancing at Vincent before he focused his full attention on Elijah.

Elijah held the machete above his head before slowly lowering it to the ground and kicking it towards the two. The male picked it up, eyeing him suspiciously as Elijah slowly pulled a gun from his waistband and doing what he had done with the machete to it. Luckily, they hadn't recognized that the glove was a weapon.

"We don't want any trouble," Elijah held his hands above his head.

"Like hell," the male snarled, gesturing with the machete as he spoke, "We know what you are. You're hunters." The candle light flickered a yellow hue on their faces, illuminating the black, rotting blood on the both of their faces and hands.

"Do we smell human?" Elijah inched forward a step.

"Stay the hell back!" The male screeched, waving the machete in Eli's direction. He hadn't picked up the gun yet, though it wouldn't do any good for either side; none of them were susceptible to the bullets Eli had loaded into it. What the ghouls didn't know was that all the cards were in Eli's hand.

The female placed a hand on the male's shoulder. "He's right. That one smells like that that nice Skinwalker we met back in Michigan," she motioned to Vincent with a glance, "And that one... I don't know, but he's definitely not human." She sent a inquisitive look towards Eli, but it was masked in fear.

"Just because they're not human doesn't mean they're not hunters."

"I don't want to hurt you. You look young, seem to have already encountered hunters..." Elijah tilted his head towards the two, an eyebrow raised.

"You don't know shit."

"Not about your life before you got into Manhattan, but once you slipped up? Oh you bet I knew everything about you once we found those bodies in the car garage." The girl looked to the ground with a guilty look when the male sent her a slight glare. "You got sloppy," Elijah raised his brows, "and there are certain rules of my borough that you," he pointed at the two and took a step forward.

"Stay back!" the male held the machete in two hands and pointed it at Elijah.

"You killed humans that weren't supposed to die by a supernatural," one step, "You didn't dispose of the bodies correctly," two steps, "You're in Skinwalker territory without any documentation what so ever," three.

"I said stay the hell back!" Elijah stepped forward once more so that the blade was pressed to his chest.

"I can give you food and shelter. I can give you family. I can keep you safe." The male ghoul was heaving ragged breathes, his eyes blown wide with fear and anger while the female clung to his arm with a face of only fear. "I'm not here to hurt you. I want to help."

"Like hell!" the male howled as he spun around and plunged the blade into Vincent's chest. His body lurched violently before falling limp again. A trail of blood fell from his lips.

Elijah thrust his gloved hand through the male's body with a sickening crunch of bone, his hand holding the long un-beating and darkened heart held in the silver metal. Black, rotting blood dripped from the silver color of the glove and soaked the portion of Elijah's coat that had gone through the male's body. The female let out a strangled scream as she fell to the floor, horror in her eyes.

The male's body twitched slightly before his eyes glowed a dim golden light and he fell limp. Elijah pulled his hand from the now dead ghoul's body with a squelch, dropping the heart and flicking a bit of the blood off.

"What," the girl stuttered as silent tears began to stream down her cheeks,  _"What are you?"_

Elijah took his bored but inquisitive look from the dead body of the male and directed it towards the female.

"Angel." A simple title that was nearly unbelievable. She stared wide eye at him as he advanced towards her. She tried to scooch away from him, but hit the cool wall of the corridor. He placed two fingers to her temple and sent her into a peaceful sleep so that he could deal with the mess more easily.

He pulled the blade from Vincent's chest and Vincent opened his heavy lids forcefully.

"Why did I get stabbed?" He asked, strained and coughed up a bit of blood.

"I'll tell you later. Right now, I need to heal this." He went to place his palm on the wound, having to push Vincent down by his shoulder to keep him from sitting up. "And what do you think you're doing?"

"I'll heal naturally, and if I do I'll have an awesome scar with an awesome story." Vincent coughed blood up again. Elijah could tell he was drunk off the pain. Rolling his eyes, he healed the wound. His hand and eyes glowed blue as he did so and Vincent arched his back as the wound was healed. Elijah tried to hold him down, but while healing he wasn't as strong as usual.

"Better?" Elijah asked. Vincent breathed heavy.

"I am never going to get used to that," he commented as he sat up. He looked from the sleeping ghoul, to the dead ghoul in a growing puddle of rotting blood, to the heart, and to the drying blood on Elijah's glove.

"Yeah, you definitely have some explaining to do."

**(That's the end of this chapter. This is being cross posted to this site so the next portion of writing I have for this is a five part christmas special, so I'll be putting aside a day to mass post it all so you can wade through it. It has plot in it, but Elijah-centric plot. After that, the prologue and first part of chapter two are already written so those will go up. After that, you'll have to wait for real time updates.)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's the end of part seven and the chapter. Finally outright said Elijah's an Angel too. So that's this chapter, and the next update will be Chapter 2-Part 1 or Chapter 2-Prologue (probably the second). Welp, I'm feeling pretty good about this, but I haven't done a read through yet so... Anyways, like I said in the last part, I have a kind of teaser vid for the next chap. Here it is (Also, I know this is an improper use of a colon. Sorry my dear English teacher):  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2DFyhcjNUtM


	9. Update About Things

So chapter two is going to be on hold because I am making a holiday special *pops one of those confetti things.* Anyways, the holiday special is going to be more Elijah-centric so that'll be fun. It might end up being as long as the last chap, but idk since I haven't story boarded the whole thing out (I just have the general theme, setting, a bit of the conflict/resolution, stuff like that). I had finals all last week so couldn't really write, but I'll officially be on winter break Wednesday.

Welp, happy holidays and good luck on any finals you still have.


	10. Holiday Special-Day One

Elijah and Vincent stood together in the air terminal of LaGaurdia airport on a chilly December morning. Vincent had a duffel presumable holding clothes and other items he might need where ever he was going slung over his shoulder while Eli's arms were empty.

"You've got everything you need?" Elijah asked as he wiped some invisible dust from his black slacks with his gloves.

"Yes," Vincent sighed. Elijah had been checking and rechecking that Vincent had everything he needed.

"Do you have your phone?"

Vincent rolled his eyes. "Yes, Elijah."

"And you'll call me when you get there?" Vincent laughed, but Elijah looked genuinely concerned.

Vincent shook his head with a smile. "You sound like my mother when I was leaving for New York City."

"And remind me again what happened when you got here?" Elijah crossed his arms over his chest. Vincent laughed awkwardly as he adjusted the duffel.

"Look, I'm just going home to Michigan for Christmas. I'll be back in a week." Vincent tried to comfort Eli, sending him a consoling look and placing a hand on his shoulder. Eli looked to the hand and sighed.

"One week," he nodded, "I can do that," it was monologue to himself, really. A way to comfort himself. He had been alone during the holiday season for years, and it was starting to wear thin on him. It was a hard time, and this year he had thought he would finally have someone to comfort him.

"We'll both be fine. Here," Vincent pulled a pen from his pocket and took Elijah's hand, turning it palm up, "You can count the days." Vincent made a tally-mark in bold black ink on Eli's palm. "That's one day. Once you've got seven tallies, I'll be coming home."

Elijah examined the mark further as Vincent stuffed the pen back into his pocket. He began to open his mouth to further delay Vincent, but he was cut off by Vincent checking his watch and realizing he really had to get going.

Eli watched Vincent's shrinking form before glancing back to the tally-mark. He looked at it for a second or so before he was gone. It was the start of Day One.

**So while writing this I got the idea for the tally system and usually I don't just go out on a whim with something I came up with while writing a scene, but this doesn't really affect the over-all theme I've got planned out and it might bring the narrative arc up a notch to something I've never tried before. Idk. Welp, on to Day One.**

Day One-December 21st

Elijah arrived back at the apartment. The rooms were silent as he flicked the lights in the kitchen on. He slid off his shoes and placed them neatly by the door before removing his coat and gloves. The coat was a different one from the coat he had while taking care of the rogue ghouls. Both Elijah and Vincent had tried getting the smell out, but they ended up discarding any clothes that had been on the case. Except for Vincent's leather jacket. It didn't hold a lot scent and was currently being worn by Vincent, who was still at the airport, probably going through security or waiting to board the plane.

Elijah sighed and placed his gloves next to a stack of papers on the island. Elijah sent a slight glare to the papers. Those papers were the reason he couldn't leave the city during the month of December, and he'd been kept by the papers year after year since 1987.

In 1987 at the annual summit it was proposed that as a way to bring the spirits and relationships of the different supernaturals up, they would have the option to submit a form to Elijah before December first so that some one in the community could have a miracle. All of these miracles were preformed by Elijah. In turn, he had to stay in the city because it would take too much energy to be teleporting in and out of the city while also preforming miracles. It brought up the morale of the supernaturals, but the holidays had never been easy for Eli.

He picked up the top paper. It was the 'miracle' he was to preform today. It was usually just him healing someone, no different than with this one.

It specified that a newly wed couple (Werewolves) had an infant who had somehow contracted pneumonia. It was strange for Werewolves to become sick, even as young children, though it wasn't unheard of.

Elijah was familiar with the couple, seeing as he had been invited to the wedding that had been earlier in the year, before he had met Vincent. He ended up watching the reception and staying for a bit of food. He actually met a hunter turned Werewolf there named Garth. He was nice guy and Eli ended up inviting him to the annual summit since he was planning to promote better hunter-supernatual relations and thought Garth could help. The wedding had been a better experience than Roy's wedding in the sense that it was a Werewolf wedding, not a Skinwalker wedding. Werewolves are more... laid back than Skinwalkers while at familial gatherings. Werewolves were like, well, wolves, and Skinwalkers were comparable to coyotes when in large groups. He still ended up at both types of gatherings, but let's just say that while at the Werewolf wedding, nobody challenged him to a drinking battle (Roy's wedding... All I'll say is that Eli won).

Elijah checked the time on his phone, letting out a disgruntled groan as he saw that it was still early in they day. Boredom's hooks were already digging into his mind. It was a problem he hadn't had to deal with since Vincent had joined him.

He thought of the things he had to do today: preform the day's miracle and drop Vincent off at the airport.

It was a short list.

He had been doing the miracles later in the day for years, and he really didn't want to break tradition. Many of the younger supernaturals had built their Decembers waiting at the door for him to come merely because they had heard their parents speak of him.

So basically, till nine at night, he had nothing to do.

Elijah collapsed into one off the stools and laid his head into his arms. He tried to think of what he did when he didn't have company. Younger him had taken over Manhattan, slightly younger him had become a cowboy, and even younger him had become a violinist in an orchestra pit of 18th century Europe. Older him, younger than now him **(a/n: shiz I hope you're keeping up bc I might be getting left behind)** , would go drinking during the December season, usually with Nicolson. Problems with that were that one, Nicolson was no longer the bachelor he was when he and Elijah had started drinking together. Nicolson was almost fifty with a wife and two kids. Eli still looked 26. The second problem was that it was fricken ten AM. He would just look sad if he tried to go drink now.

He could call up Roy...

No. Only as a last resort.

He sighed and stood up, heading for the liquor cabinet, pulling out the strongest drink they had. Vodka, a gift from Crowley after some low level demons had gone after a Skinwalker, which was against treaties.

Eli pulled down a glass, poured some vodka, and drank it without blinking.

He put the bottle away and went into the bedroom that now held what little stuff Vincent had.

Elijah looked around before his eyes rested on an empty coffee mug sitting atop the bedside table. He tilted his head as an idea came into his mind.

He downed the rest of his vodka, picked up the coffee mug, washed both of the cups, and was soon walking out of the apartment.

He ascended the stairs to the side walk before turning around and going up the stairs to the coffee shop he lived under. He swung the door open, a small bell ringing.

The barista, her back turned to him as she prepared a coffee, called out a greeting before turning around and seeing who it was who had walked into the shop. "I thought you already payed rent this month?" She smiled, handing the coffee to her husband and pointing out whose it was.

"I did," Eli chuckled, "but I was bored so I thought I'd get some coffee," he walked up to counter, pulling his gloves off his hands and shoving them into his coat pocket.

"Well this is a first. I don't think you've ever bought one of our coffees," her husband said as he came up beside her and slung an arm over her shoulder. They were a happy, young couple doing what they loved.

"There's a first for everything," Elijah smiled. The woman smiled back at him as her husband went into the backroom. He ordered his coffee, and she began to prepare it, making small talk as she went.

"I've been seeing you with a guy lately. Are you two a thing?" Elijah choked a bit. First Roy and now the landlady.

"No," he laughed nervously as she finished preparing the coffee, "He's just a coworker."

"Well," she handed him the coffee and he pulled a few bills from his wallet, "You two would make a really cute couple."

He exchanged his money and an uncomfortable sounding thank you for his coffee. He turned to exit the store, reaching for the door when his landlady called after him. "What's his name?" she asked from behind the counter, phone in hand.

"Vincent." She began typing away furiously on her phone.

"Oh this is definitely going on my Tumblr." She was smiling wickedly as she continued typing, and for once a human actually provoked fear from Elijah.

"Tum-what?" He asked, a few of the patrons looked at him with a sad look while he could have sworn that some of the females snickered.

"Nothing... Enjoy your coffee!" Elijah nodded skeptically as she went right back to typing. He exited the shop and walked down the steps back to his apartment, taking a sip as he opened the door.

He'd never been fond of eating human food, seeing as it was usually bland to him, but he could usually stomach some coffee. This coffee was extremely good, better than any he had gotten in decades, and it brought his mood up.

He placed the coffee on the island and went into the bedroom to retrieve his laptop which Vincent had been using (Elijah had never taken the time to learn how to use the thing so he had been letting Vincent use it. Vincent had also been teaching him how to use the internet). He sat it down at the island and opened the computer.

He then spent the next hour or so watching cat videos and drinking coffee before his phone buzzed in his pocket.

He retrieved the phone, eagerly answering it when he saw that it was Vincent calling.

"Hello?" Elijah heard Vincent's voice through the phone. He sounded tired, but all around fine.

"Hey," Eli smiled and leaned back in his chair, "I'm assuming you landed."

"Yup, like I said: I'll be fine."

"I know that," Eli teased, "I had just been hoping to spend Christmas with you..." Eli added softly, and I know I've said this multiple times, but Eli was really hoping to spend Christmas with Vincent.

"Those were the rules if my parents let me move to New York. I have to come home for family Christmas."

"Yeah, yeah. Skinwalkers and their family mush."

"Hey!" they both laughed over the line till Vincent said that he could see his parent's car, so he would have to go. He also said that if Eli needed anything from that he should just call.

Eli put the phone down on the island top, shaking his now empty coffee container just to make sure there was nothing left. He tossed the empty empty cup into the bin and checked the time on his phone. It was around 11:15 AM and the boredom was beginning to set in again.

Eli desperately hoped it wouldn't come down to calling Roy.

Eli closed the laptop and made his way to the small bookshelf in the bedroom. It had mostly lore books along with some of Elijah's favorite classics, though he'd rather read something he'd never read before. He decided that he was going to go out to a bookstore to find some new books when his phone rang.

It was Nicolson.

Elijah hoped there was some kind of thing that needed taking care of. He needed the distraction.

He held the phone to his ear. "Nicolson! Everything's good in the borough I hope." Lies. Utter lies. We all know you want something to do Eli you can't hide it. **(a/n: Its 12 at night and the next scene might end up like something straight out of a crack fic if I don't wake up. The italics you just witnessed are a side affect.)**

 _"Every things fine, but knowing you, you were hoping somebody got eaten or something."_ Nicolson chuckled over the line.

"Bull's-eye," Eli laughed quietly.

_"Knew it. Anyways, I was wondering if you want to come to the force's Christmas party. It's about to start in a few minutes, but I knew if I told you sooner you'd just show up and wait."_

"I'll be there. I need anything to get in?" Elijah started gathering his coat and shoes, turning out lights as he went.

_"Just tell the secretary you have a ping-pong appointment with Ramirez and she'll tell you where."_

"Where the fuck did you come up with that code?"

_"Inside joke, now, I've got a stop watch that I'm going to start once I end this call. Let's see how long it takes feathers to get down here."_

The call ended abruptly, and once it did, the apartment was empty.

Elijah talked to the secretary, giving her the code words before she told him where the party was in the building. He walked out of her eyesight into the hallway she specified would take him to the stairs and elevator, but once she couldn't see him, he disappeared from the hallway and reappeared in front of the door to the party. He quickly opened the door to see a smug looking Nicolson looking at his watch.

"18 seconds and you're not even breathing heavy," Nicolson nodded with a exaggerated frown and his eyebrows drawn up, "Not bad."

"Really?" Elijah asked as he shut the door behind him, "I thought I got slower."

"Oh, no, you did." The two laughed heartily. They enjoyed each other's company throughout the party, Nicolson introducing Elijah to some of the officers and other odd people. They caught up on each other's lives, and Eli even got to fill Nicolson in on who Vincent was.

"Sound familiar?" Nicolson asked, referencing himself to Vincent. He was right, something similar had happened with Elijah and Nicolson. Eli knew that Vincent was going to age and that he wasn't. That he would eventually watch him slip away and he'd be left alone again, just like with any other friend he'd had.

They continued on with the Christmas party, though Elijah's mood was dampened slightly. The party was fun though. He knew at least three girls and even a guy had checked him out while one girl even flirted with him.

She tried really hard.

It was kind of pitiful, actually.

In the end she tried to give Eli he phone number, but he refused, saying he "wasn't open to relationships right now." She acted like she was cool with it, but he could tell she was a little sour. The party ended around 1:20 PM-ish and afterwards Eli went to the bookstore to get some new books to read. He spent the hours till nine reading one of the new books.

A few minutes before nine he began to get ready, putting his suspenders back over his shoulders, donning his coat and gloves, and finally putting his shoes on. He checked over the paper again before teleporting to the front door of the small town house in which the small family lived.

He rapped quietly on the door since he knew they had baby inside and didn't want to risk waking it, though the sound was still loud enough to be heard inside.

A tall male opened the door. "Elijah, what are you doing here? Is something wrong?" The man was worried, and Elijah could tell he was sleep deprived.

"No," Elijah corrected shaking his head with a small laugh, "Not at all. Quite a few people submitted miracle forms for your child to receive one, so here I am." The male's eyes widened. The male nodded silently, still awestruck, and led Elijah through the house into the infant's room.

"My wife's in there with her," he whispered. The male really didn't know what to say.

Elijah entered the room silently, though the wife who was slumped next to the crib stirred. Their eyes met for a split second, and he continued to the crib as she scurried to her husband who stood in the doorway when she realized who he was.

They watched in each other's arms as he removed his gloves and un-tucked the sleeping infant from the soft pink blanket. He held the back of his hand to her forehead, feeling the fever that racked her small body.

He took his hand back as it and his eyes glowed a soft, white blue, much like when he healed Vincent in the sewer. He placed his hand on the infant's chest and healed her of the sickness that plagued her.

He wrapped the child back up in the blanket and held her in his arms, examining her. "She'll be fine," he handed the child over to the mother.

"Thank you," the whisper left her tired frame as tears glinted at the edge of her eyes. The husband held a hand out to Elijah, shaking hands as he whispered a thank you. Elijah forced a tired smile as he pulled his gloves over his hands again. He said his goodbyes, and took his leave.

He appeared back at the apartment, drained of energy and ready to sleep, which was a rare occurrence for an Angel. It usually meant they were hurt or dying, which he was. He'd used a lot of 'angel mojo' as some called it during the day and hadn't replenished the energy, leaving him tired. He decided he'd sleep since he had nothing better to do and fix the problem with him dying slowly in the morning.

Elijah fell asleep looking at the single tally-mark on the palm of his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that is the end of the first day along with the introduction thing. This is going to be centered around Eli and his sad December adventures (hooray). I was actually hoping to get this out last night, but I fell asleep after the authors note saying it was around 12 (but I wrote till around 1). Anyways, this was supposed to be December 20th's day, but it's the 21st so... Just pretend it's the 20th. Day two will hopefully be out tonight if I can get my act together. These day by day things will go on till Christmas and I'll have the finale then. Welp, I'm off to do a read through. Happy Holidays.  
> a/n: So I did a read through, fixed some typos, and remembered what I wanted to talk about for this part. The list I made below:
> 
> Mentions of the summit/Garth-More talk of the summit in this, and the fact that Garth is going to be there (I love his character and he'll definitely be in the summit chapter that will be happening)
> 
> Getting an angel drunk-Angels don't get drunk on small amounts of alcohol which is why Eli won the drinking contest
> 
> Santa Eli-When I wrote the stuff saying that young supernaturals waited for him to come to their doors it reminded me of Santa lol
> 
> Violinist Eli-This might come up later along with stuff about cowboy ELi
> 
> Tumblr-The coffee shop they live under, when I was thinking it up, is a trendy little thing and when I think of the landlady, she just seems like someone who would have a tumblr. Her and her tumblr might come up again. Idk.


	11. Holiday Special-Day Two

_Day Two, December 22nd_

Elijah pried his eyes open from his dreamless sleep, slowly rolling over and taking in a deep breath of Vincent's scent, which was all over the sheets. An unfamiliar stiffness had set into his bones and muscles overnight.

"I thought sleep was supposed to be satisfying," he groaned, stretching. His eyes still closed, he searched the bedside table for his phone, taking some time for him to actually find it. When he finally did, he pressed the screen to illuminate it, but it was far too bright for his still adjusting eyes. Like I had said before, there are no windows in any of the rooms which means it stays dark, so it was like when you check your phone in the middle of the night and become blinded. It was another thing he was unfamiliar with.

When his eyes did adjust, but not before he cursed the phone under his breath a few times, the time read 10:17 AM.

"How do humans even get out of bed," he mumbled, throwing the covers off and putting his feet onto the floor. He was clothed in a pair of Vincent's sweats and one of his undershirts, since it was the only clothes that he knew some one had worn to sleep.

He dragged himself to the door and flicked on the light switch, flinching at the sudden light. He shuffled into the kitchen and towards a low cabinet. A yawn crept its way through him, and it was a strange sensation that left him dazed.

It was probably one of the weirdest things ever. He thought he had seen other humans do it before, but he'd never experienced it. It wasn't something he wanted to experience again.

He crouched to the cabinet, his bare toes flexing to keep him balanced. He pulled a small vial of white light, like the one he'd pulled from the same cabinet before. He examined it for a few seconds, watching the pulsating white light encapsulated within the container. Had you ever seen a human soul disembodied, it would have been similar to that.

Deathly similar.

He uncorked the vial and downed the contents, his eyes glowing blue for a few seconds. Within a few minutes he was back to a relatively normal amount of energy.

Once back to normal, he continued to a drawer within the kitchen and pulled out a black pen, going back over the tally mark Vincent had made on his hand and also making a new one, signifying that it was another day. Only five more days till Vincent would be back.

He went into the bedroom and began to pull his shirt off and over his head when his eyes fell upon the bathroom door. Vincent seemed to like showering after being asleep through the night. Was it customary after sleeping to bathe? Elijah had never taken a shower, being as Angels didn't require it.  Even if his vessel did need cleaning (say after you force your arm through the body of a ghoul) he'd always been able to wash with water from the sink, some soap, and a rag.

He pulled his shirt back over his head and entered the bathroom, flicking the light switch and flooding the room with light. Eyeing the shower suspiciously, he pulled the curtain back and stepped into the shower, still clothed in Vincent's sweats and shirt.

He examined the inside of the shower, remembering when the builder asked him where he planned to put it. He'd never planned on learning how to use it, and he hadn't, but he did know that if you twisted the knob water would spray and you would use it to wash yourself. What he wasn't sure about was whether you were naked or not while in the shower.

He knew that humans valued their clothes and were only without them when they changed their clothes or when with someone they wished to court. He was fairly certain a human wouldn't want to court a shower, so he decided upon leaving his clothes on.

He twisted the knob and cold water sprayed down on him. It surprised him and left him sputtering, but he got used to it.The water began to soak through the clothes, and the water stayed cold. He stayed in there for about as long as Vincent did (twenty minutes).

He wasn't sure why Vincent enjoyed showering.

He turned off the water and stepped out, water dripping from his hair and the clothes. His vessel started to shiver, something he hadn't experienced since the time he accidentally teleported to Antarctica when he was still a fairly young Angel who didn't have much experience.

Both then and now were not enjoyable.

He stripped of his now drenched clothes and pulled a towel from underneath the sink. He knew how to use a towel.

Body dry and his hair dry-ish, he hung the clothes on a hook in the shower so that the water dripping from them wouldn't get on the floor. He turned the light out and left the bathroom to put his normal clothes on. It didn't take him long to be clothed in his normal, white dress shirt, black slacks, suspenders, and dark red tie. He sat on the bed and pulled on his simple white socks.

Once finished he checked the time on his phone. 10:42 AM. Still early.

He settled on getting coffee, just like he did yesterday. He had enjoyed it, and it was probably one of the only things mortals did that he also did. There was more than drinking coffee on the list, but it was the newest addition.

He put his new coat on, but skipped out on the gloves since he knew he'd be taking them off once he was in the shop. Out the door, up the two sets of stairs, and into the shop with the door bell chiming melodically.

The landlady looked up from her phone, eyes meeting Elijah's. "Two days in a row! Is the world ending?"

"That was 2012," Elijah mused, though it was true. The biblical apocalypse had started and ended that year and while it wasn't fun for most of the world, Elijah had enjoyed the occupation. It kept him busy.

**(a/n: The wiki doesn't say when the apocalypse was in the show, and if I really wanted to i could maybe go through some episodes and figure it out, but I don't really want to so for the sake of me not really caring and the sake of the joke, the apocalypse was in 2012.)**

The landlady laughed slightly as Elijah advanced to the counter. "What can I get ya' Eli." Eli ordered the same thing as he did yesterday and the engaged in light conversation as she prepared the coffee.

"So... You and this Vincent guy definitely aren't a thing?" She asked, adding milk and other things to the cup.

Elijah coughed in surprise. "No, no. Just friends."

"So you're single?" She put a top over the cup.

"Yes?" Elijah had met humans who had asked him questions like that, but it was usually when they we're flirting with him. This female didn't seem to be flirting so he found it strange for her to ask.

"Then would you go on a blind date with a girl that I pick out?" Elijah pulled out his wallet to pay for the coffee.

"Not really looking for a partner right now," he stated as he placed the bills into her hand.

"So let me get this straight," She propped herself up on the counter with her elbows and Eli eyed her suspiciously, much like he had done to the shower, "You're single, not looking for love, and bringing your 'co-worker' home every night. Sounds to me like you two," she leaned in and whispered the next two words, "are banging."

Elijah grabbed his coffee and faked a smile with his eyes closed. "Were not."  He turned to leave and was half way to the door when she called after him. "Not yet!" He stopped and rolled his eyes with a shake of the head, glancing back to see her typing furiously on her phone. "By the way," She caught his attention as he was about to exit the shop, "Me and my husband were going out tomorrow with a couple of friends if you want to come. Were meeting up here around ten PM to do some bar hopping."

It worked with Elijah's obligations at nine, so he might as well agree. Something to keep him busy is what he was thinking I suppose. He agreed to be at shop at ten tomorrow and left with his coffee.

He decided to go to a park instead of back to the apartment to drink his coffee. By park, really it was a patch of grass with a few garden beds and statues, but it was still a nice place to sit outdoors and enjoy a coffee since it was relatively empty.

It was called the Elizabeth Street Gallery, and Elijah sat enjoying his coffee on the only bench. It was across a path from the statue of a lion, though it seemed to be weather worn from being outside for years.

Elijah finished his coffee in silence and when he did, he checked his phone for the time. It read 12:45 pm. Only eight hours till 'miracle time'.

He contemplated what to do till then, thinking he could maybe read more of the books he got yesterday, but decided against it since he didn't want to finish them before he got back from miracle time since he didn't feel like going bar hopping tonight (or sleeping).

Roy maybe? No. He was already going to have to suffer through Skinwalker Christmas Eve and he did not want to spend more time than necessary with large groups of Skinwalkers.

Maybe Nicolson could entertain him? Elijah didn't have any better ideas.

Elijah tossed the empty coffee cup into a nearby trash can before teleporting to the precinct Nicolson worked from. He sauntered through the door, confidence restored to that which it normally was even though most of the conversation he'd had that day was about how him and Vincent should be together  together. It was off putting to tell the truth.

Nicolson was in his office when he looked up and saw Elijah smirking in the doorway to the floor where his Detectives had there desks. He actually did a double take before rolling his eyes and raking an hand over his face.

Elijah's smirk only widened and he tucked his hands into his pockets as he made his way across the floor to Nicolson's office. He recognized most of the Detectives at the desks from the Christmas party, but there was one that he didn't recognize. He shrugged it off since it was probably because the detective just hadn't been at the party. He wasn't getting an weird vibes off him anyways.

"How's being a Captain, Nicolson?" Elijah asked once he was in the room, the detective he didn't recognize wheeling his chair across to another and leaning over her desk presumably to ask a question, though it wasn't important for Elijah to know.

"I've been a Captain for ten years, Elijah. It's the same as every other time you've asked," Nicoloson sighed and pulled his reading glasses from his eyes and began to massage his temples. "What do you want?" Nicolson asked when Elijah didn't leave.

"I," Elijah began as threw himself into a chair in the corner, "am bored, and I thought maybe bothering you would solve the problem." Nicolson deadpanned at Elijah, but Eli's smirk didn't falter.

"My job's hard enough as it is; don't make it harder," Nicolson warned as he placed his glasses back on his nose and picked up his pen.

"Make your job harder? I bet I make your-"

Nicolson cut Elijah off abruptly, "Look, you're an amazing guy and my best-friend, but we did this last December, and I can't afford to get that behind again this year. If you're gonna stay here, you're gonna shut you face."

" _Yessir,"_ Elijah mocked a salute and shut his mouth.

For the time being.

It only took Elijah five minutes to break the silence. "Why do mortals enjoy showers?"

"Elijah,"  Nicolson cautioned. Elijah had already figured out he wouldn't hurt him, so he didn't worry about angering him.

"Can you just answer this one question." Elijah begged, not a normal thing for him to do, but he really wanted to know why mortals enjoyed showers. He just didn't understand.

Nicolson sighed for what seemed the hundredth time that day. "Fine. I'll answer your question, but tell me why you want to know." Nicolson was annoyed with Elijah, but he was intrigued by the fact that the Angel would just out of the blue ask a question like that.

"I tried taking a shower this morning and it wasn't very pleasant," Eli began, Nicolson choking on his own spit when Eli said he tried to take a shower, something he'd never heard him even be remotely interested in. "It was cold and the clothes got all wet which made them heavy and it was probably one of the worst experiences I've had in this century. It was weird and I don't think I understand." Nicolson began to laugh, Elijah confused as to why.

"You," Nicolson could barley get the sentence out he was laughing so hard, "You took a cold shower? Fully clothed?"

"Yes? I mean, I figured since the only times humans are completely unclothed is when they wish to court another, and I'm fairly sure they wouldn't want to court the shower..." He trailed off as Nicolson laughed harder, if that was possible. Tears were nearly streaming down his face. Elijah's brows furrowed, "I'm gonna go out on a whim and say I did something incorrectly."

"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock," Nicolson had almost gotten his laughter under control, only small chuckles here and there. "How long was this 'shower'?" He made air quotes around shower.

"Twenty minutes." This sent Nicolson back into a fit of laughter. He was absolutely howling.

Once he had finally calmed down he wiped a tear from his eye. "Man did I need a good laugh." He shook his head as smaller, quieter laughs still racked his body at times.

"What am I doing wrong with the shower situation?" Nicolson sighed (again) and shook his head.

"For an Angel who I've seen plan whole wars down to the most minute detail and then win that same war with the same plan, you can be really dumb."

Elijah narrowed his eyes. "Are you insulting me."

"Within a compliment," Nicolson quipped, "But if you want someone to teach you the proper way to shower ask that Skinwalker you're living with." Nicolson snickered and Elijah eyed him nervously.

"Alright... Well, I'll leave you alone."

"And how long will that last?" Nicolson mumbled.

Nicolson returned to his work and Elijah sat in the chair. And then he stared at Nicolson with out blinking till Nicolson finally got weirded out.

"Elijah, what the fuck are you doing?" Nicolson removed his glasses and looked to Elijah. He didn't blink or move his eyes from Nicolson's. It was extremely off-settling.

"Seeing how long I can stare at you without blinking before you get weirded out," Elijah said, voice distant. "It only took three minutes."

"Well you can stop now." Elijah blinked a few times and stopped staring at Nicolson. Nicolson returned to writing and reading the papers on his desk.

Elijah soon got out of his chair and was reading Nicolson's papers over his shoulder.

"What are you doing," Nicolson asked, exasperated.

"Reading over your shoulder."

When Elijah didn't get the hint that he should go back to sitting in his chair, Nicolson spoke again. "And?"

"It was an inside job, probably the banker." Nicolson sighed.

"I'm reviewing a case recently closed by one of my detectives. I'm not trying to figure out who did it."

"Even better; we can see if I'm right." Elijah still didn't move from his spot over Nicolson's shoulder.

"Why don't you go watch a Disney movie or something if you're so bored," Nicolson muttered.

"Disney? I remember a man by that name. I was there the night he was supposed to be taken by hellhounds."

Nicolson sent Elijah a look that said 'what the fuck man' but he didn't say that. "One, thanks for ruining Disney for me and two, you've never seen a Disney movie?"

"I believe I've seen some thing called Steam Boat Willy from Disney." Nicolson was out the door of his office and to the desk of the detective Elijah had yet to meet.

"Harrison, I need to borrow your Disney movies," Nicolson asked the male who looked fearful. Elijah walked up to the desk slowly.

"I'm not sure I understand what's going on, Nicolson."

"Uh, yeah, me too," the male detective said flustered, "I don't have any Disney movies anyways," he let out a small, awkward laugh.

Nicolson mocked the laugh, "We all know you have them in your desk now give them to me, it's an emergency." After some (not-so) gentle persuasion the detective was handing over the stacks of disks, though he mumbled something about how he didn't understand what kind of emergency required Disney movies. His Disney movies.

Nicolson thanked him and instructed Eli to follow him to the meeting room. Elijah sat in one of the numerous chairs while Nicolson wheeled in the T.V. they used to look at security footage and other such things. He had begun to instruct Eli on how to use it, but Eli informed him that he wasn't that  old (even though he was pretty old).

"You're going to sit here, you're going to watch these Disney movies, and you're going to let me get some work done. Got it?" Nicolson pointed a finger at Elijah as the first disk queued up. He nodded and Nicolson left him alone to watch the first movie that had been loaded. It was Sleeping Beauty.

It kept him busy and he had soon watched three movies. Once the third one was over the searched through the stack for something that looked different than the others. Filing through, he came to a movie titled Shrek. It looked like an extremely peculiar movie, and Elijah didn't understand what kind of fairy-tale had an ogre as the main character.

He decided to watch it.

Off-set by the opening scene's humor, he decided to keep watching. He was slightly amused by the donkey though. He considered getting a talking donkey to keep him company, but came to the conclusion that Vincent would not take lightly to it. And that it would be like a real donkey, not an animated one. It probably wouldn't even have good taste in humor.

He watched on till he came to the scene with the magic mirror. He'd heard of magic mirrors in fairy-tales before, even had heard that someone in Europe had come into possession of a real one. He thought back to the fact that he couldn't get a talking donkey without upsetting Vincent, but a magic mirror? Easy to hide, most likely to be smarter than a donkey... Hell, he didn't care if it couldn't tell him if he was the fairest in all the land. All he wanted was someone to talk to and keep him busy.

He was very excited to try and make his own magic mirror, and he wanted to make sure Nicolson knew in case he wanted to join him. He jogged to Nicolson's office and stuck his head through the door.

"I'm gonna make a magic mirror if you want to come."

Nicolson's facial expressions went through the five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and finally, acceptance. While unpleasant for Nicolson, it was an amazing feat of human emotions.

Nicolson opened his mouth a few times, trying to find the right words as Elijah stood watching from the door. Eyebrows drawn up and head tilted slightly, silently asking whether or not he would join him on his strange adventure.

"Just," Nicolson paused, still not sure what words to use, "don't get into trouble."

A cheeky grin split across Elijah's face, eyes lit up and excitement coursing through his veins. "No can do, captain boy." His face left the door way for a few short seconds, enough for Nicolson to shake his head before his face appeared again in the door.

It was like a reoccurring nightmare.

"Also, I'm taking what you said about my idea as approval." Nicolson tried to argue, but Elijah was already gone.

Elijah's first stop was an old mirror store that was nearby the precinct. He quickly picked one out, payed for it, and was already teleporting it home. Next, and probably the harder of the two steps, was to find a witch who was powerful enough to make a magic mirror and would agree to do so.

He started at the highest ranking witches, the ones that the Skinwalkers kept close tabs on to make sure nothing was up. An uprising, an assassination, a new type of metal or even magic. They were the key players when it came to anything of that nature and watching them had payed off more than once in the years he'd had them watched.

After he had been turned down by almost every high ranking witch, he went to the file cabinet in the Skinwalker compound's basement and started visiting each witch they had on file. None of the files had been digitized, mostly because Elijah was more afraid of people finding the files online than he was of the files catching on fire. Elijah still hadn't learned how to win a battle on the grounds that were the internet.

Witch after witch, hour after hour, he began to lose hope thinking that maybe he could attempt to create a magic mirror. The file he pulled next was that of a witch who had been known to do petty tasks for humans for cheap prices. She wasn't liked by many in the witchcraft community, but Elijah didn't care, because when he asked her if she would do it for him, she said she could. There was a price, but he was sure it wouldn't be anything he couldn't handle.

"Name your price," He leanded into the palm of his hand as his elbow balanced atop of the glass checkout counter. The store had trinkets and do-hickeys, a few spell books for sale, and the more valuable crystals stored safely away in the glass holding case that doubled as a checkout.

"How about," she looked him up and down, "a kiss from an Angel?" She eyed him hungrily, though Elijah's suave attitude was immediately one of surprise. And maybe disgust. He wasn't sure why.

He laughed awkwardly, mulling the decision over in his head: his dignity or a cure for boredom.

He chose the cure for boredom.

He, though most of him screamed for him not to, flirted back with the witch who looked to be at least thirty years older than his vessel. "Only a kiss?" He leaned closer.

"Are you offering more?"

"Do it for the mirror, do it for the mirror," He chanted silently in his head as he continued negotiations. "Are you willing to take more?" He whispered into the woman's ear. He wasn't sure how far he was willing to go for this mirror, but he did know that if he skipped out on part of the deal, most of the witches in the community won't sympathize with her. They had all either thought making a magic mirror was dangerous or had been seduced by Elijah before. She was stupid enough to attempt making the mirror and be seduced by Eli. There was no way they'd feel bad for her.

The woman let out a shuddered breath and Elijah died a bit inside. He didn't think he'd ever stooped this low during December. Usually he'd barhop at night and have a girl with him during the day while they did... things. This year though? He just wasn't feeling it. It took a lot to get him drunk and he just didn't feel like bring home a girl.

Maybe it was because there was only one bed in the apartment?

Keeping in a shudder, Elijah pulled away from the woman and looked to her through his lashes. "So," he began, "The mirror."

"All I'm gonna need is a mirror, a human soul, and a little extra," she paused and raked he eyes over Elijah's form again, "power." Elijah was sure he threw up in his mouth. He wasn't sure he really wanted the magic mirror that badly now.

Elijah held up a finger and vanished from the shop for a few short seconds before appearing with the mirror. The woman looked turned on by the feat, and it weirded him out to say the least.

The mirror he had chosen was a full body mirror that could stand on its own. The glass was clouded in places and the wood that held the reflective surface was tarnished here and there, but Elijah thought it gave the mirror character.

He pulled a small vial filled with white light, the same as the ones he had been drinking, from his coat pocket and handed it to the woman. Her hand lingered on his longer than he would have liked, but to keep up the act he made flirtatious eye contact with her has their hands touched.

She pulled a few ingredients from the wall behind her and mixed them into a paste. She made her way around the counter, hips swaying more than was probably normal for the woman. She dipped he finger into the paste and painted a few symbols onto the reflective glass. Once done, she took the vial and grabbed Elijah's hand, opening it palm up. He saw the tally-marks and thought of what Vincent would think when he got home. Maybe he'd be impressed with what Elijah did while he was bored like he was when he made the Angel-blade glove.

"I'm going to pour the soul into your hand; do you think you can hold it while I do the spell?"

 "Think?" Elijah's smirk grew along with his uncomfortableness, "Oh I know I can hold it."  **(a/n: wtf am i even doing.)**

****

**(a/n: it's 2:30 in the morning and i have an eight hour drive tomorrow but I made this picture to show how both Elijah and I feel because expressing this emotion through words is damn hard for me)**

The woman poured the soul out into Elijah's palm and he closed his fingers around it, his eyes glowing blue as he used a bit of Angel power to keep it where it was. The woman chanted an incantation and Elijah could feel the soul start to pull towards the mirror.

**(a/n: i'd like you to know that any innuendos in this are not intentional and that i almost just wrote a horrible one that would have just been... it's best we not speak of it)**

The woman opened Elijah's hand gently and the soul floated to the mirror, soon becoming trapped within it. Once inside, it took the form of a human man. A drunk man. A man with a scraggly beard and a half drunk beer in hand.

The woman made an 'oh' face and looked to Elijah, surprised to see he was smiling with sparkling eyes. "It's perfect," he whispered, still looking at the now "magic" mirror.

"What 'er you lookin' at, blondie," the drunk slurred from with in the mirror.

"Well," the witch continued, "if you're satisfied with the outcome, I think it's time for the payment." She slid a hand up Elijah's arm and eyed him hungrily.

Elijah pecked her on the lips, winked, and said, "A kiss is what we agreed on," with a devilish smile plastered across his face before him and the mirror disappeared from the shop.

And after the night's miracle business had been taken care of, you can bet he was spending time with his new best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Done with Day two. It took way longer than I thought it would since I really wasn't feeling well Friday night or Saturday night, but it's done now. It turned into a crack fic kind of thing by the end, but that's mostly because I'm tired. You can blame the idea on my beta reader. Anyways, Elijah has a friend now and irl it's Christmas so merry christmas. And yesterday was the first night of Chanukah too (we celebrate both) so happy Chanukah or what ever holiday. Maybe I'll go to sleep now after I do a read through and upload this. Oh and I almost forgot to mention this, but that Elizabeth Street Gallery is a real place. I kind of chose it as a place in the area where I decided they might live. There's actually a Starbucks a few blocks from there if you want to use that as a reference point for where they live. idk. Do what ever you want.
> 
> a/n: I'm not completely done doing a read through, but it's almost three thirty in the morning and me trying to read this is not going well. I'm falling asleep. I'll fix any typos and such i find tomorrow.
> 
> Edit: Typos fixed.


	12. Holiday Special-Day Three

Day Three, December 23rd:

Elijah had spent hours upon hours speaking with the mirror, a soul now trapped beneath its reflective surface. A soul. A human soul that, for some reason, Elijah had.

He had set said mirror up near the kitchen island and spoke to it from his seat in one of the high stools. It kept him busy and it was interesting to interact with such a strange soul. Strange in the sense that the people like Richard, the old drunk who was now trapped in the mirror, usually threw a beer bottle at him when he tried to speak to them. They were a type of human that he had never been able to get close to till now.

Elijah watched as Richard took a sip from his seemingly bottomless beer bottle and leaned back farther into his worn lawn chair. He wore a stained, white tank-top and torn khaki cargo shorts. Their first conversations together had mostly been Richard slurring curses at Eli, asking what the hell was going on and where he was. He eventually calmed down and Elijah started a game of "you ask me a question, I ask you a question."

Their game had been amusing to say the least.

When they had started, Richard was still sour and confused. "I'll ask the first question; what's your name?" Elijah spoke calmly and with measure as he watched Richard's eyes dart from place to place.

"Rich'rd," he took another swig from his beer bottle, "Where am I an' how?"

Elijah chuckled halfheartedly and shook his head. "That's two questions, Richard, but I'll answer them both since you're the guest." Richard narrowed his eyes as he drank from his beer again. "First question," Elijah readjusted and clapped his hands together once, "You are in a mirror in my apartment in New York City. As for the how, I had a witch put your soul into the mirror."

"I thought I was dead."

"You were," Elijah paused, "And your soul became trapped here on Earth since it had unfinished business. I had your soul because without souls, I can't survive longer than a few days. Your's was trapped, but if it were to move on, it was to go to Hell." Richard didn't seem to be taking the information well. Maybe it was a little overwhelming?

"Do y' 'ave any other souls?"

Elijah smirked, "The rules are I ask a question, you answer, then you ask a question and I answer. Lets follow them, shall we?" Richard scowled at Elijah.

"Sure thing, blondie," sarcasm and annoyance dripped from his voice.

Elijah smiled, "So, Richard, what's you favorite color?" Richard seemed puzzled by the question as Elijah stood to pour himself a glass of whiskey.

"Uh, green?"

"You don't seem very sure about that," Elijah sipped his whiskey.

"No 'nes ev'r really asked m'."  **(a/n: Doing the read though and I'm realizing it's really hard to understand Richard. If anyone requests translations, I'll put them in.)**

"I'm glad to be the first." Elijah began to put the bottle of whiskey away, periodically sipping the liquid from his glass. "Your turn," Elijah motioned towards Richard with his glass as he sat down in the stool again.

"Do y' 'ave any other souls?"

"Do I have any other souls stored away?" Elijah stated the question again to himself and took another sip from his glass. "Yes, and before you label me as an evil Demon or something, let explain myself." Richard nodded skeptically and sipped his beer. He was starting to think this was some kind of sick form of torture in Hell or something, but he got unlimited beer so it didn't seem too bad. "Like I stated before, I need souls to stay alive, but I only take souls trapped on Earth that are destined for Hell. I keep them out of Hell and I put them to good use."

Richard nodded. This was definitely a Hell of some kind. Maybe it was a badly written story he was stuck in and his character was just used for exposition and filler. 

Nah.

"My turn," Elijah stated, "Ideal weekend?"

"Beer."

Elijah laughed softly at the joke even though he knew part of it was true. Richard joined in too.

They continued on with their game for the hours till ten AM when Elijah went to get coffee. They had bonded over the hours and it felt good to have someone who also didn't sleep to talk to.

The bell above the coffee shop's door chimed as Elijah stepped inside. The landlady looked up from her place at the counter along with a group of girls who had taken up residence in one of the booths. They chatted animatedly to each other and not to Elijah's knowledge, stole glances at him.

"Three days," She faked amazement and coaxed a laugh out of Elijah. "Same thing?" She asked as she pulled a cup from a stack. Elijah nodded and she started on his coffee. "Do you always wear the same clothes?" She, like the other two times he had gotten coffee, started up small talk with Elijah.

He looked down at his clothes almost as if he had to check if he was wearing the same clothes. He laughed lightly, "Got me. Are they bad?" He was genuinely concerned on whether his clothes were okay. They seemed important to humans and they gave him confidence too.

"No, no!" She fretted, "No, it's kind of cute that you wear the same thing everyday, and the clothes," She leaned in and looked to her left and right, "Don't tell my husband, but they're hot on you," she smiled as she returned to preparing his coffee.

He squinted at her. "Are you flirting with me? Because if you are, I'm sorry, but I'm not interested."

She put the lid onto his coffee. "Ha!" she exclaimed, "No way I'd be flirting with you; I love my husband too much. And also, you saying your not interested only further makes me think you and and your 'co-worker' are doing more than just desk work if-ya-know-what-I-mean," she wiggled her eyebrows at him as he exchanged money for coffee.

He deadpanned a stare at her, but she merely laughed maniacally. This human really was more scary than some monsters he'd met.

"Elijah, by the way, we're planning on going out to dinner before we start bar-hopping; it's a formal dinner place," Eli sipped his coffee and nodded, "We've got reservations, but we're all still meeting here at ten if you're still in."

"I've got nothing better to do."

"Perfect!" She pulled her phone from her brown-ish colored apron and turned it on, tapping and sliding before show Elijah a picture of a couple. One looked to be a woman who looked to be the landlady's age. She had tan skin, black hair, and dark eyes with a smile splitting across her face. The other seemed to be a man who was also around her age. He was a brunette with brown eyes and a bit of stubble across his chin. They looked happy together. "These two are Maria and Daniel, or Dan as we call him.  **(a/n: When I named the character Dan I didn't realize that Dan Howell also has brown hair and brown eyes. This was not intentional, but it is kind of funny that I accidentally did that.)** They're husband and wife and me and my husband have known them both since college. They're great people and I'm sure you'll like them." Elijah examined the picture for a few more seconds before nodding again. She pulled the phone back and began tapping away again while Elijah drank his coffee. His eyes drifted to the group of five or so girls in a booth seat that had been eyeing him when he came in. Some of them squealed when they saw him looking at them while a few of the others waved to him. He gave a curt nod and wave before turning back to the landlady.

She finally showed him a picture of a young man with short, curly black hair and chestnut skin. Elijah was intrigued by the picture of him. He looked to be on a beach and was distracted by watching a sunset while the picture had been taken. He had a warm smile on his face while the light of the dying sun illuminated his face in just the right places. "This is Isaiah. He's my best friend from high school and he's flying up for Christmas, which is awesome and super exciting." A wide smile was spread across her face as she put the phone away and splayed her hands over the counter. "Those are the three people you haven't met who are going to be there. You know my husband and me and before we leave for dinner I'll make sure everybody knows who everybody is."

Elijah sipped his coffee. "I'm looking forward to it. See you at ten?" She nodded and said a goodbye to him as he walked out of the shop, paying no mind to the group of loud girls.

He arrived back at the apartment with still three-fourths of his coffee left. 

"'Ey, I never asked; is y' landlady hot?" Richard called out from the mirror when he heard Elijah enter the apartment. Elijah rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Don't you dare get any ideas," Elijah warned jokingly (though in actuality he was serious), pointing an accusing finger at Richard as he walked back to the drawer to retrieve a pen to add a tally mark to his palm. Four days till Vincent was supposed to come back.

Elijah put the pen away and drank his coffee from his seat on his stool as he talked with Richard. They talked of all the things Elijah had done, what he was doing currently, how weird Skinwalkers and their gatherings were. The conversations were fast and ranged to any topic they could think of, Richard always sipping from his beer bottle. This continued on till nine PM when Elijah had to do the miracle of the day.

He did the miracle and when he returned at around 9:13 PM, Richard, a disembodied soul, had somehow passed out. How he had managed to do it escaped Elijah, but he decided to occupy himself with getting ready for his outing with his landlady, June (he'd gotten her name off the name-tag on her apron), and her husband August (he'd gotten his name the same way he'd gotten June's). He found it cute how both of their names were months of the year.

He searched through his and Vincent's shared closet in the bedroom, hand tracing over the clothes. His hand stilled on a black suit jacket, vest, and slacks he'd acquired years ago. He pulled the out the outfit and examined it closer. He remembered the last time he had worn it: the 1945 annual summit. He liked it then, and decided there couldn't be any harm in pulling out the old duds again.

He dressed himself and once done, checked himself in the mirror. Man, did he miss the '40s. The clothing was amazing. He ran a hand over his front to remove any dust. He had kept on his dark red tie, but now it was paired with a black suit vest with silver buttons and a black suit jacket with buttons that matched the vest along with his suspenders. He looked... Dapper. Sharp. Classy. All those words and more could describe what he looked like in the clothes. He definitely did not regret dragging the old things out again.

He looked into the mirror and thought of what he had done during the holidays in the '40s. By now he would have been out to a bar, maybe he would have already found someone to flirt with. He stood in front of the mirror longer, trying to decide whether or not he wanted to bring someone home. He had found himself not bring people home since he had met Vincent, but if it was the fact that he lived with someone that was bothering him he knew he could just go home with someone else. He couldn't place what it what was bothering him, but he was debating in the mirror whether or not he was going to go home with someone.

He decided against it and raked a hand through his messy bangs before entering the kitchen and checking the time on his phone. 9:55 PM. He didn't know it had taken him that long to get ready. He spent the last five minutes till ten making sure all the lights were out, that Richard knew where he was, that he had his wallet, keys, and phone. Once he knew he did, is was ten. Just like he had planned on it to be.

He walked up the stairs to the sidewalk before he turned again and made his way up the stairs to the coffee shop. The little sign in the window said closed, but Elijah could see that the lights were on and that June and August were speaking happily with someone inside.

The familiar chime of the bell sounded as Elijah entered the shop for the second time that night.

"Elijah! I see you changed it up a bit," She said with a smile.

Her husband placed a hand on her waist, "I almost feel under-dressed," he added with a laughed. Elijah laughed along with the group, but was distracted by the fourth member.

Maria and Dan had seemingly not arrived yet, but Isaiah was there and Elijah could tell he was a medium and a strong one at that. Elijah knew that such a strong medium could definitely tell he was an Angel, but that wasn't what worried him. It was the fact that Elijah should have known of such a young and powerful medium in the borough. He sifted through his memories of the files he remembered reading about new arrivals and vaguely remembered a description of a medium that looked like Isaiah.

Manhattan had become a place known for being dangerous for mediums. Angels and Demons alike are drawn to them and it can get deadly as Elijah had unfortunately found out. He'd been careful to make sure Skinwalkers monitored all known mediums of the borough.

"Well, Elijah, this is Isaiah," June introduced Elijah to Isaiah. He kept his cool facade and shook his hand, though Isaiah seemed a bit off-put by his presence.

"It's nice to meet you," Elijah smiled, looking into the medium's eyes and seeing that he was looking at something behind Elijah. He looked marveled and distracted by it. It took a few seconds, but Elijah finally figured out what he was looking at. The medium was powerful enough that he must see some form of of his wings. He figured it was just a silhouette, though his wings still puffed out in pride. They didn't get to be seen often and the impressed look in the medium's eyes made a small part of him want to impress him more.

"Same here," Isaiah seemed to finally rip his eyes away from Elijah's wings and return to his normal self. Elijah saw June smiling wickedly out of the corner of his eye. He was confused as to what had happened to make her smile so.

Before he could comment, the bell chimed again and a couple entered the shop. Elijah guessed they were Maria and Dan, but waited for June to introduce them as was customary for humans.

June greeted Maria with a large hug and a few squeals. "It's so good to see you!" June held Maria at arms length. Dan and August had greeted each other with a hug and some laughs. The four of them seemed familiar with each other while Isaiah hung back behind Elijah, glancing periodically at his wings.

"June!" Maria shouted when she noticed Elijah standing idly a small way's off, "You didn't tell me the guy who lived in your basement was so handsome!" Isaiah watch Elijah's wings puff out, invisible to the other members of their group. Elijah definitely picked a good vessel.

He pretended to chuckle sheepishly and looked to to the floor, "Uh, thank you?" Everyone laughed.

"Well, Maria," June gained control of the conversation, "It seems you've already figured out who Elijah is," she walked past him and slung an arm over Isaiah's shoulders. A wide smile spread across his face, but his eyes were still distracted. "This weirdo is Isaiah. Isaiah, that weirdo is Maria," she pointed to Maria, "And that is her perfectly normal husband, Dan," she pointed to Dan. The group of six stood in the shop a few minutes longer to make sure introductions had been done correctly before they made their way to dinner.

Since there were so many of them, they opted to walk the few blocks to the restaurant. Elijah walked behind all of them, surveying the streets, noticing Skinwalker patrols, a witch, a small group of Vampires that looked to be going to dinner. They all looked at ease, unworried of anything coming after them for being who they were.

He walked in silence till Isaiah began to walk next to him, the other four people in the group laughing and talking a few steps ahead of them. Elijah glanced at Isaiah out of the corner of his eye before looking forward again, his pace never changing

"It's dangerous for a medium to be in a city with such high Demon and Angel activity," Elijah whispered in a low voice to the medium who now walked next to him.

"I'm not a medium," Isaiah paused, "I made that decision a long time ago," he added softly. The medium saw the Angel's wings shift.

"It's not a choice. You're a medium no matter what you do." Isaiah scoffed and shook his head while they kept walking. "I'm serious," Elijah spared a glance to him, "Mediums are a rarity in this borough, mostly because of the amount of deaths by Angels and Demons. They're going to be drawn to you, especially to a medium as strong as you." Mediums are most known for being bridges from the human world to the spiritual world, delivering messages to and from each side.

"I'm not that strong a medium," Isaiah tried to tell Elijah, "I haven't done anything with it for years."

"How much of my wings can you see?" Isaiah stayed silent, though he did open his mouth and considered speaking. "How much?"

Isaiah shook his head, "You're delusional."

"You and I both know I'm not." They rounded the corner and could see the sign of the restaurant. People dressed in formal clothes mulled around the front, light illuminating them and the street from inside the building.

Isaiah scanned the area before his eyes came to rest on Elijah. Elijah kept walking forward, his eyes straight ahead and his hands tucked into the pockets of his slacks. "It's... A light, I guess," he began to describe the wings, "behind these huge... things. They look like a silhouette of wings as weird as it sounds." Elijah's wings puffed again in pride because he was right about the medium being able to see a silhouette of his wings.

Elijah turned his head slightly to look Isaiah in the eyes as they neared the restaurant, "You're a very powerful medium, especially for your age. You have a gift." He was more powerful than some of the older mediums in the borough and it fascinated Eli beyond belief. Only 25 and he could most likely make contact with the most powerful Angels and Demons.

They slowed behind the two couples they were to be eating dinner with as they made it to the front of the restaurant. "More like a curse," Isaiah muttered in response to Elijah's complement. They cut the conversation short once they stopped near the front door of the restaurant.

"Here we are," June stated excitedly as her husband opened the door for her, holding it as the group entered. June got their table and they were soon seated and reading the menu.

"Elijah, none of us really know much about you. Where are you from?" Dan asked to start the conversation.

Elijah looked up from his menu, "I'm not really from anywhere because I moved around a lot as a kid since my dad was in the military and when I was old enough I joined too," Elijah paused, "My dad was a deadbeat more or less though and when my brothers and sisters said I didn't belong in the family, he didn't do anything. I left the military shortly after that and started traveling more before I settled down here in New York." Isaiah sent Elijah a puzzled look, confused as to what parts of his story were true, while the rest of the table was sympathetic.

"That's too bad about your family," June said before sipping her water. The conversation continued as June asked where he'd traveled to. Other questions were asked and they all began to know  more about each other. They shared laughs together and it brought Elijah back to the times he would stay with a family while hiding from Angels, Demons, or other supernaturals. It wasn't home cooking, but it was the same feeling around the table.

They ordered food and once everyone had ordered the waiter asked if they wanted any wine. August asked Eli about the wines he had tried while traveling and which ones he recommended, but Elijah said he wasn't very good with wines. They had the waiter recommend one.  **(a/n: I don't drink wine nor think I can write people choosing wines so there. They have wine now.)**

They stayed at the restaurant till they had finished their food, split the bill between them, and left to start bar hopping. They all had a buzz already going from the wine, excluding Elijah.

"There's a bar a block over that I've been wanting to go to for awhile. What do you guys think?" June asked once they'd excited the restaurant. They agree and June lead the way to the first bar of the night.

It was a trendy little place with frilly new drinks Elijah had never encountered before. He got a whiskey and sat with the others at a large table. The rest of the group, excluding Elijah and Isaiah, got the colorful types of drinks. 'Fun drinks' as regarded to by some.

The two couples poked fun at them slightly for not being adventurous, but it was all in good fun. Elijah hadn't gotten a frilly drink since if he even wanted to feel a slight buzz he'd need a strong drink. A very strong drink. Angels don't get drunk easily.

He figured Isaiah was just trying to pace himself.

They talked more and Elijah started to hear a slur in Maria's voice, not anybody else though. She must have been a lightweight.

"So, Elijah," her words ran together slightly as she stirred he drink, "June tells me you started bring a guy home about a month ago. You two a thing?" Elijah choked on his whiskey, coughing slightly. He saw out of the corner of his eye that Isaiah also seemed surprised, but his face shifted to one of curiosity soon after.

"No, no," Elijah assured, "He's just a co-worker."

"Co-worker my ass; where do you even work?" June butted in, the alcohol in her system working as a social lubricant.

Elijah paused for a few seconds, scrambling for an answer that wouldn't compromise anything. "I'm a Defax worker here in the Lower East Side. He helps with case work and stuff like that." Hopefully that would keep her off him. He and Vincent weren't a thing.All Vincent had done is move in with him and help him around the borough. He regarded Vincent as a friend.

Before either of the women could harass him more, Isaiah changed the subject. "You're a whiskey guy, Eli?" He asked as he sipped his beer.

The conversation flowed smoothly after that, the slightly drunk women distracted once they'd been presented with another subject.

They soon left the bar and Maria asked if Eli had any bars he liked in the area and after some metaphorical (and physical) pushing from the women he lead them to a nearby bar that had been open for decades. He was unsure whether or not he should bring them there seeing as it was run by Skinwalkers and was a hot-spot for supernaturals. He decided if he was there with them they'd be safe.

The bar had a live band and thriving patrons at the bar and other tables. Waitresses carried platters of drinks and food through the throngs of people and bartenders mixed drinks from behind the bar.

"This is a nice place," Dan commented as they entered the bar and snagged a large table in a corner near the bar.

They sat down and a waitress soon came to take their orders when she recognized Elijah. She was a Skinwalker, daughter of the bar owner actually.

"Eli!" she greeted him with a smile, "I haven't seen you here in weeks! I hope you and Vincent are doing well." Elijah nodded and she began to take their orders. The waitress, Emily, already had Eli down for his usual: Bacardi. She left the table with their orders and conversation started up again.

"You know," August began, "It's usually not good when they recognize you at the bar," he joked and the whole table erupted into laughter, including Eli. He had to admit it was funny

Their drinks soon arrived on a platter carried by Emily. "I hope you're taking care of Vincent, some of us at the compound were pretty attached to him," she commented as she placed Eli' s Bacardi down in front of him. A scared look came across his face as she walked away from the table. He knew the girls would have something to say about that.

"'Taking care?' 'The compound?' You two are definitely fucking." June's voice was slurred, and it explained as to why she had begun to swear more loosely.

"No, no, no, no," Elijah repeated, trying desperately to gain control of the situation, but it had already gone into an irreversible nosedive.

"Dude, it's fine with us if you're gay. I mean, Isaiah's gay," Dan said. Dan was slightly drunk. Just enough to say what was on his mind, which was plenty enough to propel the downward spiral faster, though the information about Isaiah could be useful.

"Have you guys ever thought that maybe they're not fucking?" Isaiah defended him, and Eli could see that he was slightly offended by the fact that personal information about him had been thrown around in normal conversation.

"But that would be no fun," Maria whined comically. Eli sighed. Drunk humans were a strange force he still hadn't learned to predict.

"I'm going to go get another drink," Eli stated as he stood with his glass and made his way to the bar.

"Don't get too drunk!" June called after him from the table.

Eli rolled his eyes. "I can hold my liquor," he called to them as he began to weave his way through the people in the bar, "which is more that I can say about other people," he muttered to himself.

He made it to the bar and ordered another Bacardi. While the bartender was filling his glass, Isaiah showed up. The bartender, a Skinwalker, looked to him as he poured the drink.

"You're the medium that the LaGuardia Airport Patrol said flew up from down south," he pointed to Isaiah. Isaiah looked to Eli, hoping that maybe he knew what the bartender was saying, since he didn't understand.

Elijah saw the plea for help, "He's the medium, but he's not familiar with the world of supernaturals. At all. From what he's told me," Elijah glance at Isaiah, "He's not even practicing as a medium."

The bartender's mouth fell open as he topped off Isaiah's drink. "Not practicing; I can smell the power on him and you're telling me he's not even trying?" Elijah nodded. Apparently he wasn't the only one who was impressed. The bartender placed the bottle back on the shelf and directed his attention back to Isaiah, "You could definitely apply for an apprenticeship with the head medium. From what I can tell, you're almost as powerful as her." Isaiah was confused about the 'smelling,' but he generally understood what the bartender was getting and opted to ask Elijah what it was all about later since he seemed well versed in such subjects. At least enough to understand.

"He's here visiting some other humans," Elijah placed a hand on Isaiah shoulder and grabbed his now full glass of Bacardi. "They're here in the bar and I'm sure they're getting into trouble, so if you'll excuse us, we'll be getting back to them." The bartender understood and went to serve some other patrons as Eli and Isaiah left with their drinks.

"What the hell was he talking about?" Isaiah asked from where they stood a little ways off from where the rest of their group sat, growing rowdier and more drunk by the minute.

"Manhattan is a hot spot for supernatural activity: Angels, Demons, Werewolves, Vampires," he nodded his head towards the bartender they had talked to, "Skinwalkers."

Isaiah was lost. "I get the Angels and Demons I get, but the rest of that stuff..."

"They're real. All of it. Except Bigfoot, that's a hoax," Elijah added the last bit with a smile, but it didn't seem to make Isaiah feel better.

"And you're an Angel?" Isaiah eyed Elijah up and down skeptically, his eyes darting to the large shadows of Elijah's wings.

Elijah smirked and nodded, "In a vessel."

Isaiah quirked an eyebrow, "Angel's take vessels?"

"Man," he shook his head with a laugh and took a sip from his drink, "You may be a powerful medium, but you don't know anything about this world."

Isaiah shook his head, "I'm gonna need another drink." He took a step towards the bar only to be stopped by Eli's hand on his shoulder.

"I'd like to have at least one person at this outing who's relatively sober." Isaiah laughed and they soon found a tall table for two from which they could watch June, August, Maria, and Dan.

"So, tell me about 'vessels.'" Isaiah watched Elijah. He looked young to him, but it was his eyes. They looked old like the eyes of a wise man who had seen too much. They grew distant at times, if only slightly, but it was enough for a sharp eye to catch.

Elijah sipped his drink and began to answer the question. "I'm assuming the only Angels you've come into contact with are disembodied?" Isaiah nodded. "As a way of helping better or whatever, I'm not that sure because the only time they lectured us about why was what..." He seemed to be counting in his head, eyes turned to the ceiling, fingers and lips twitching, "must have been a short time after the dawn of man." Isaiah's drink caught in his throat.

"You're that old?" A smirk grew across Eli's face.

"I look good for my age, don't I?" Isaiah smiled.

"That I can't deny," he raised his glass slightly to Eli before taking in another swallow. Eli did the same.

"You're not too bad yourself." They held eye contact for a few seconds, but it felt longer. Eli broke it to look back to the now rowdy drunks they started the night with. Isaiah couldn't deny that Eli's gaze was exciting. "Back to the vessels; Angels take them so they can walk among humans and do..." He paused in thought, "Well, what ever Heaven intended when they started doing it."

Isaiah chuckled, shook his head, and took another drink. "Some Angel you are; not knowing what Heaven's intentions even are."

"I left Heaven a long time ago," Elijah stated lowly before finishing off his drink. Isaiah was intrigued by it though, and wasn't going to let Eli off without explaining.

"You left?" Eli and Isaiah's eyes connected again.

Eli broke their gaze by looking into his empty glass. He cleared his throat and placed the glass on the table before looking back to Isaiah. "Enough about me; where are you from?"

Isaiah knew Eli was avoiding the topic, but decided against pushing the topic as not to seem obnoxious or nosy. "North Carolina," he said as he straightened in his seat.

Eli nodded with a slight face of disbelief. "Really?" He asked with a small chuckle in his voice and a skeptical smile upon his lips.

"No accent, I know." Isaiah was also smiling.

"I'm almost disappointed," Eli commented, jokingly, "I do like a good southern accent."

"Are ya'll sure?" Isaiah drawled in what was probably the worst southern accent any one could pull. The pair erupted into laughter.

"I said good," Elijah stifled out through his laughter. Isaiah just shook his head and took another sip from his drink, peering behind him towards the band as it finished up another song.

"So," Isaiah directed his eyes back to Elijah, "I'm presuming you came from Heaven," Eli nodded in agreement, "What did you do up behind the pearly gates?"

"I think I told the United States government that I'm a 'War and Battle Statistical Analysis Consultant,' but that's just some word mumbo-jumbo. In Heaven, my purpose was simply to show the Generals the best way to win a war."

Isaiah nodded, though he caught a note of sadness in Eli's voice as he spoke of it. "Sounds simple enough."

Elijah nodded, but a short sarcastic laugh left his mouth as he did. "Yeah. They knew I could win them any war, they just didn't like how I did it," Elijah paused and pulled in a breath. "They didn't understand that to win a war you have to lose a few battles. Lose a few soldiers. They weren't big fans of the way I went about things. Some of them understood, just not enough."

"You know," Isaiah began, "you talking about Heaven is a real drag." They laughed together again, Elijah nodding slightly in agreement. "How about you tell me your happiest memory of Heaven."

Elijah quirked a brow. "Happiest memory? Well there was this one time with this dead dog," Elijah began with a small smirk. It earned him a punch on the shoulder from Isaiah.

"Come on, you asshole. I'm waiting!"

"Fine, fine," Elijah said, calming his laughter, "There was this one-in-a-million soldier in one of Garrisons that I loved to mess with. Maybe it was because he was so innocent or because he had so much blind faith, but I've never really figured out why he brought me so much entertainment. He just did." Isaiah watched a nostalgic smile creep its way across Elijah's lips and his eyes grow a little distance. Isaiah thought it was cute how happy he looked while recalling the memory. "Anyways, I'm a higher ranked Angel than him since I work so closely with the Generals or something like that. I never asked too many questions as an Angel. Power-wise, I was probably a low-level soldier, but because of what I did in Heaven I was around a lot of powerful Angels. They were intimidating and had thrown me around more than a few times when I was a younger Angel.

"So, I used my higher status to convince this soldier that he has orders to go down to earth with me for this 'very important business.' I get him down there, he's in a vessel for the first time and he looks like some kind of newborn giraffe," Elijah was holding back laughter  **(a/n: holy shit i need another word for laughing. Thesaurus.com says giggle. I don't think Elijah's going to be doing any giggling(this part))** while Isaiah watched him with a bemused look. "We're standing on this ledge that's probably no more than a foot over the water, the water over the ledge is pretty deep," Elijah added the information about the water over the ledge as a side-note of sorts with a short gesture of his hand, "And I full on shove him into the water."

"You didn't!" Isaiah shrieked, the corners of his eyes crinkling and the corners of his mouth turned up as Elijah continued.

"I did! And he's flailing around in the water fully clothed, no idea what to do, and I'm laughing my ass of before I see him slip under. I know he can't drown, but I also know he has no idea what so ever how to even get out of the water, so I jump in fully clothed too. We ended up both completely soaked and sitting on the beach next to each other. He just turns to me, tilts his head, squints his eyes, and asks, 'Was that the important mission?'" Elijah deepened his voice a bit as he mimicked his description.

The two of them howled with laughter at the story. Isaiah could see why it was one of Elijah's happiest. "He still believed you? After all that?" Isaiah question as their laughter calmed down a bit. Elijah nodded. "Do you know what happened to him?"

"I heard about him for the first time in centuries a few years ago. Had something to do with a Hell expedition. He's been popping up here and there, but I haven't found reason to go and see him."

Isaiah nodded, eyes connecting with Elijah's. They both had tears on their edges from laughing.

"Got anymore 'Innocent Angel' stories?" 

Eli smirked. "Oh you bet your ass I do."

They spent their time watching the group they'd began the night with and talking about Elijah's pranks and adventures with the 'Innocent Angel' along with more long sessions of eye-contact, but neither of them were complaining. Isaiah was giving him a break from the Holidays. Providing a distraction so he didn't have to remember what Christmas had come to represent for him.

Their conversation continued uninterrupted till the door to the bar opened and the building shifted completely. The music faltered slightly on its beat and some of the conversation died down while others stopped completely.

Three demons had entered the bar.

Isaiah felt Eli's energy shift too, the silhouette of his wings becoming harder and harder to see as Eli stood straighter in his seat to see over the crowd. He bobbed a bit before Isaiah broke the silence between them.

"What are you doing?" he whispered.

"Trying to see if I recognize them..." He trailed off, distraction apparent in his voice.

"Not that," Elijah looked back to Isaiah, "I mean with your wings; I can barely see them."

Elijah settled back in his seat, going to take a sip from his drink before he realized it was empty. His face looked dejected as he set the glass down, but the emotion passed. "Masking the fact that I'm an Angel. They act differently if they know I'm here."

"Because you're an Angel?" Elijah hopped down from the seat, his empty glass in hand.

"And I run Manhattan." Elijah added the fact nonchalantly before changing the conversation back to the Demons. And liquor. "I'm gonna get another drink and see if I can get a better look at the Demons if you want to come. Or you can go sit with June and Co. Either way, you don't get to be alone."

Isaiah hopped down with his half-full drink and opted to follow Elijah, though slightly confused as to why he wasn't allowed to be alone. "Why don't I get to be alone?" he inquired as they weaved in and out of the bar patrons.

"Because," Elijah paused as he skirted around a person, "I'm fairly sure they're here because they sensed you." They reached the bar and Eli placed his glass down, turning to search the crowd for the Demons when the door opened again, two Angels entering. "100 percent sure now," he commented, watching the Angels scan the masses of people before making eye contact with Eli.

Isaiah saw this and looked to Eli, hoping he knew what was the right thing to do. All he did was smile cheekily at the Angels and wave. Very comforting (note the sarcasm).

Elijah leaned back against the bar as the Angels made a bee-line for the pair. Elijah glanced over and saw the Demons doing the same.

"What do we do?" Isaiah leaned over and whispered to Elijah.

"We," he flagged down the bartender as the two groups grew nearer. The bartender filled his drink before retreating back and watching from a few yards away. Elijah grabbed the glass and took a sip. "Say 'hello'." Isaiah was confused. And slightly terrified. Three Demons and two Angels were coming straight at the two of them and Eli was treating it like it was nothing, which when Isaiah thought about it, probably was nothing to him.

The Angels reached them a few seconds before the Demons, and the two groups glared daggers at each other.

"Don't see you guys around here often," Eli commented offhandedly. 

"You can stop hiding behind your vessel's soul, Elijah. We know it's you," one of the Angels commented, arms crossed and wings flaring from the silhouette that Isaiah could see.

"Oh, well that's no fun. I should have known you all know what my vessel's soul looks like." Isaiah watched the silhouette behind Eli return. Elijah took another sip of his drink, "Mind if I ask what brings you to the Lower East Side?"

"I think you know why we're here." It was a Demon who spoke this time.

"Let me guess: Live band?" Isaiah stifled a laugh, but the Demons and Angels didn't seem amused.

One of the Angels flicked their wrist and produced an Angel blade from the sleeve, but before a step could be taken, Isaiah felt the room spin and soon found that the group of two unfamiliar Angels, three Demons, Elijah, and Isaiah had been transported outside to some sort of alleyway. Isaiah felt and saw Eli's... Essence falter. It was strange to see the light behind he silhouette flicker so violently.

Elijah stood with the Angel-blade to the Angel who had produced its chest and his hand wrapped tightly around the Angel's neck.

"I'd advise against pulling weapons against me," he commented, the childish personality he had within the bar falling away immediately. The Angel's eyes were wide as Elijah held him in place. His accomplice made a move to step towards the pair, but Elijah turned quickly and seemingly pulled a box of matches out of the air, lit one, and threw it down to the ground causing a ring of fire to erupt around the Angel.

A rug with strange symbols on a pentagram appeared beneath the Demons, and Isaiah watch as they made no further movements towards escape. He also saw how each time one of these items appeared, the light behind Eli's wings faltered, the light even started staying dimmer.

Elijah returned to how he had been holding the Angel, hand on throat and blade to chest. "Did you all know," Elijah spoke so that all of the people, well, Angels, Demons, and one human could hear, "That going after mediums is against regulations?" The Angel in Elijah's hold looked to the ground. "Pulling a weapon while un-threatened is against regulations. You're also out of your own territories without proper documentation since it all has to go through me first." Elijah released his hold on the Angel's neck and readjusted his hold on the angel blade as he stepped back.

A bucket of water appeared in his hand and used the water to douse the fire. "Now, I want you both to scurry back to Heaven and tell them what you've done and that you may have even earned yourself a territory deduction. If you want to know how much, show up to the summit." The Angels disappeared, Isaiah watching their wings flap once before their whole being was gone.

"You three are going to do the same. I want you all to go directly to Crowley and tell him what you've done and that you'll have a chance to argue for the territory you might lose at the summit." Eli used his foot to smudge away some of the pentagram, and as soon as it was broken, the Demons were gone.

The world spun around Isaiah as the two of them were transported back to the place at the bar they had been before the Angel pulled the blade. Eli picked up his glass and took a sip.

"What the hell just happened?"

"Business. You remembered what I said about running Manhattan?" Isaiah nodded. "That was me making sure the Demons and Angels know their place."

"Well,"  Isaiah finished his drink off, "That was wild from start to finish."

"Sure was," Elijah agreed and downed his drink. "You want to go send those lightweights home in a cab?"

"Oh that's going to be harder than scaring off three Demons and two Angels," Isaiah commented as he placed his drink down on the bar and followed Eli towards where they had left the two couples.

Isaiah was partially right; it was way more tedious and draining than what they had done in the alley way.    **  
**

They had begun by first finishing off their own drinks before returning to the table that the two now completely wasted couples sat, drunkenly singing along with the song the band was playing.

Elijah flagged down a waitress so that he could pay of their drinks while Isaiah tried to get the drunks' attention. Elijah finished paying, but it did cause him to have to hand over a good chunk of money. It wasn't something he was particularly content with.

Elijah turned back to where Isaiah was trying to round up the four. Dan and August were hanging off his shoulders and looked like they were about to pass out while the girls were hanging off each other, giggling and stumbling as they went.

"Little help here?" Isaiah called to Eli as he shifted his grip on the two men who were at least half a foot taller than Isaiah. Elijah chuckled at the sight.

"I dunno, you look like you've got it," Elijah said as he walked closer and transferred the two men to his shoulders without a problem it seemed, though Isaiah saw his wings flap behind him slightly so he could keep his balance.

"Asshole," Isaiah mutter lightheartedly as he went to the girls who immediately attached themselves to his shoulder, still giggling drunkenly.

"Is that the only insult you know?" Elijah challenged as they began to maneuver their way out of the bar.

"You know you are one." Elijah let his mouth fall open comically as he feigned a hurt look in Isaiah's direction.

They eventually did get them out of the bar. It didn't require as much teleportation and knives as they needed with the Angels and Demons, but Elijah and Isaiah probably used a lot more stern looks and threats on them. Eli tipped the cabby (a Skinwalker he knew) generously because he knew the four drunks in their twenties were going to be a handful. When it was all said and done, Elijah and Isaiah were left alone in front of bar.

"So..." Eli began. He almost sounded awkward. Almost. "Where are you staying?" Eli asked with his hands tucked into his pockets.

"Holiday Inn a few blocks from the coffee shop."

"I'll walk you there."

"You know, I can't tell if your flirting with me or are just concerned about my safety." Isaiah began walking down the sidewalk, not waiting for Eli to even start walking.

"Would you be offended if I say both?" Eli jogged to catch up, soon walking side by side with the medium.

"Not at all." Isaiah looked at Elijah out of the corner of his eye, the lights of New York City illuminating his face in just the right way. He was undeniably handsome, at least to Isaiah.

Elijah ended up walking Isaiah all the way to his room, and when Eli was meant to turn around and head to his own home, they stayed frozen in the hallway looking at each other. They'd had long looks like it all night long, some of them purposeful, but others? Elijah knew he what he supposed to do. That he was supposed to just walk. That's what he had said when he was mulling over whether or not he would even go home with someone after the night out was over, but there was a distraction right in front of him. A way to keep his mind off missing Vincent and being just generally sad during the emotional time that was December. Elijah stepped closer and slowly let the palm of his hand make its way to Isaiah cheek. His eyes darted down to Isaiah's lips for a split second before returning to his eyes.

Isaiah closed the distance between them.

Eli's eyes closed tightly as he pressed his lips to Isaiah's, but he found his mind wandering to Vincent. He pushed the thoughts away. They were just friends. Colleagues. Eli chocked it up to his mind thinking of strange things at strange times. He deserved a treat, something to keep him busy before tomorrow's Skinwalker Christmas Eve party and Isaiah seemed more that willing to help him keep busy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boom. Done with day three. Way behind schedule, driving back home tomorrow, and this ended up being _way_ longer than I originally thought it would end up. Srsly. I thought this was going to be short, but it's more than any other current pieces in this story since most of them are around 3000 words and this one is more than 6000 (6750 to be exact). Also, while it may seem that the Elijah Vincent ship (which my beta reader ships) now has holes in it, but it actually shows that E is down with dudes. Now we just have to find out who V swings for. Btw, while writing this ending piece, my beta reader has not read the part yet, so I've compiled a few ways for them to react to Isaiah's character (since I was already teasing her with information of a kissing scene and stuff like that.)  
>  (The gifs are will only work where I have this posted on wattpad, so here's a link to all that. The gifs and some more a/n stuff is at the bottom in bold.)  
> https://www.wattpad.com/351681434-six-crows-a-supernatural-fanfiction-because-that%27s


	13. Holiday Special-Day Four Opening, Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part one of however many fucking parts I break this into.

Day Four, December 24th:

The morning after.

Something Eli hadn't planned on happening, hell, he hadn't planned on ending up in bed with someone at all.

But it had happened and he didn't feel like dealing with the troubles of trying to change the past. It wasn't as if he didn't enjoy what had happened because believe me, he did, it was just the fact that there was this ever growing _gnawing_ feeling in his gut. He'd remembered his vessel feeling like this millennia ago, but he couldn't remember the name of the emotion if his life depended on it. All he knew was that it didn't feel pleasant.

Eli stretched and let out a quiet groan as he retrieved his wrinkled dress shirt from the floor and pulled it over his shoulders, still puzzled by the fact that humans enjoyed sleeping so much. It never left him feeling anymore rejuvenated.

He mulled quietly around the room, collecting the rest of his clothes from the floor. Making sure he had both socks and all the parts of last nights outfit. He laid them onto the end of the bed, mentally checking he had everything: jacket, suit vest, socks, wallet, phone, keys, suspenders (still attached to his pants, so they were now dangling from his hips), and...

His tie.

Where was his tie.

He did a quick once over of the room from where he was standing, but he found nothing. He left his place near the end of the bed to begin searching for his favorite tie. He lifted the pillows that had fallen off the bed from the floor and placed them back on the bed in case the tie was underneath any of them, but he still didn't see it.

With a moan of displeasure, he got on all fours to broaden his search to underneath the furniture of the hotel room. He did that for a while, sitting back on his heels whenever he would find a piece of Isaiah's clothes so he could fold it and place it in a pile on the couch in the room. The search still came up inconclusive.

He rolled over, eyes closed and back to the floor as he let out an exasperated sigh that was louder than intended. Eli's eyes opened when the heard Isaiah make a small sound and adjust himself in the bed.

Eli knew the only other place his tie could be was in the bed, but he didn't want to risk waking Isaiah. Human's were fickle beings when it came to sleep, and the last time he woke a female after a night of drinking and... _other_ activities, well, let's just say she didn't really appreciate it.

Eli knew Isaiah wasn't going to react the same way the female had, seeing as they were very different humans, but he didn't feel like taking the risk. Eli opted to look around the edges of the bed.

He began searching quietly near the bedside table on Isaiah's side of the bed and continued to make his way around the bed, searching and searching for his lost tie. He'd made it completely around to the other bedside table when he saw something tie-like along the wall underneath the bed. He couldn't tell if it was his from where he sat, but it was worth a try.

Eli extended his arm towards what might be his tie, his fingers just barely scrapping the fabric. Eli readjusted, pulling his arm out and trying to get to it by going underneath the bedside table, which had _just_ enough space underneath for him to fit.

His finger finally gripped the cloth, but when he tried to pull it out, he found it was stuck. He tried another gentle tug, but nothing happened. Eli changed his position slightly and pushed his arm farther under the bed so that he could have a better grip. Finally, he gave a strong tug to the fabric.

But it turned out it didn't need that much force, so he ended up hitting his head on the underneath of the bedside table, shifting said table slightly, sending the lamp on the table to the floor and all-in-all making just a lot of noise in general.

Eli froze and Isaiah shifted again in bed, sucking in a deep breath before speaking quietly into the room. "Elijah?" Eli cringed. "Is that you?" The sound of Isaiah was cute, even if it might have racked Eli with the fear of being yelled at.

"Yes?" Elijah finally answered, the sound muffled since he was still underneath the bedside table.

"Where are you?" Eli could tell Isaiah was growing more and more awake.

"Under the bedside table..."

"Why..." Neither of them had moved from their spots.

"I was looking for my tie."

"Did you find it?" Eli looked to the piece of cloth he had retrieve from underneath the bed. Cue le faceplant of annoyance.

"No. It's some one else's tie," Eli grumbled out.

Isaiah chuckled lowly. "C'mere you klutz." Eli complied, standing and righting the lamp before crawling onto the bed towards where Isaiah now sat. Isaiah linked his arms around Eli's neck once he was close enough. "Did you check in the bed?"

"I didn't want to wake you up." Isaiah cooed slightly under his breath and pecked Eli on his nose.

 _"You are too cute,"_ **(a/n: my favorite part of this is the fact that e didn't want to wake Isaiah bc he was scared he would yell at him, not bc he was considerate enough to think Isaiah would want to sleep longer)** Isaiah whispered before pulling his arms from Eli's neck, letting them rest on Eli's shoulders. "Do you need it because you're leaving?"

"Yeah, I've got to get ready to go to a Skinwalker Christmas Eve Party."

"I never got to ask you about all that supernatural stuff, did I?" Eli shook his head no. "I guess that'll just give me a reason to see you again." Eli smiled.

"Guess it does." Eli wasn't sure how he felt about seeing Isaiah again, but he did know he at least enjoyed his company. Maybe seeing Isaiah again would be nice.

Isaiah looked to the couch and saw that his clothes from the night before were folded next to his suitcase on the couch. "Oh, I could definitely keep you around." Isaiah pecked Eli's nose again before leaving the bed to grab some clothes from his suitcase. "I'm gonna go get dressed, then I'll come help you look for your tie," Isaiah said as he carried his clothes with him to the bathroom, dressed in nothing but his boxers.

Eli went to search through the pillows at the head of the bed, not knowing that Isaiah had taken Eli's phone with him to the bathroom so he could secretly add his number to his contacts. He exited the room as Eli was till searching the bed, sparing him only a small glance before returning to his search which gave Isaiah enough time to put Eli's phone back where it had been.

Isaiah stopped and stood at the end of the bed and watched Eli for a few seconds. His eyes wandered from his back to the silhouettes of the wings that sprouted from between his shoulders. His eyes silently traced the edges of the feathers, wishing he could see what they really look like.

"Hey, Elijah," Isaiah  broke the silence as he crawled into the bed to help look for the tie, "Would it be possible for me to ever see your wings, not just a silhouette?" Eli stopped moving linens and pillows for a split second before continuing again.

"I created a spell that lets me pull my wings to this plane of existence without leveling everything in a three mile radius, but it's not easy to preform and my wings aren't that exciting."

"What do you mean 'not exciting?' They're wings!" Elijah sighed.

"Wings of an Angel who can't even get the bloodstains out of the feathers completely. They're ugly."

"I bet they're bad-assc." Eli rolled his eyes at the comment before he finally pulled the lost tie from somewhere between the sheets.

"I found it!" He sat back on his knees, admiring the wrinkled, dark red tie with a smile. Isaiah linked his arms around Eli's middle and rested his chin on his shoulder, lazily peering at the tie from behind Eli.

"Does this mean you're leaving?" This time it was Eli who pecked Isaiah on the nose.

"Drop in any time you want; June knows where I live."

Eli began to collect what he wasn't wearing in his arms and slid off the bed, leaving Isaiah reclining on his back back in the bed and watching him prepare to leave. "You better not be surprised when I show up, Angel boy."

Eli scoffed as he went to open the door, "Me? Surprised? I'd like to see you try."

"Challenge Accepted!" Isaiah called after Eli as the door slowly shut behind him. He smiled faintly. Isaiah had done a wonderful job of distracting him from the holidays, but that gnawing feeling was still chewing away at him, strange and unfamiliar. Eli looked to the now smudged tally-marks on the palm of his hand for comfort.

The peculiar feeling only got worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so since day three was really fucking long, I have taken the advice of my beta reader to split them up. It'll also keep me motivated I think and have a more steady stream of updates. I'm really aiming to finish day four up this week, but I don't see that happening. Anyway, this was pretty fun to write, my only concern for having been writing Isaiah's Character is that I accidentally make him Vincent. It's so easy to make two character be the same on accident. I'm hoping I can get back to writing V some more and build E and V's relationship up. that'll be fun. Anyways, happy Tuesday


	14. Holiday Special-Day Four, Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two of how ever many.

Day Four, December 24th:

Eli checked his dying phone as he weaved through the late morning foot traffic, seeing that the time was around 10:30. He shut the phone off and tucked it into his trouser pocket before occupying his mind with deciding what to do this morning. He didn't count it really as morning, more so the time between morning and noon, when most of the humans were at their jobs and he would usually already be doing something, be it to do with the Borough or just something to sate his boredom.

He was trying to decide whether he wanted to recharge with a soul, change and _then_ go get coffee or get coffee, recharge with a soul and then change. He deliberated the question as he rounded the last corner back to the apartment's street. Eli weighed the problems with each: if he went for coffee first, June would definitely make ludicrous comments about how he was dressed, but if he went for coffee last he wouldn't be getting coffee as soon as he wanted it.

The coffee wasn't worth harassment.

He pulled his keys from his pocket, unlocked the door, and pushed the door open. "I'm home," He announced into the dark, quite air as he flicked on a light, shutting the door with his foot.

There was a sound from Richard's mirror that was only describable as an old drunk waking up unexpectedly, probably wielding a beer bottle as a weapon. "Blondie? Is that you?" Richard slurred, though it sounded more like he was more tired than drunk. Could be both.

It was probably both.

Elijah toed off his shoes and pushed them towards the wall before looking to the the back of the mirror (since the reflective side which showed Richard was facing away from him) when his attention was suddenly grabbed by what looked to be a bottle of wine on the kitchen island.

Elijah strode quickly to the bottle, laying his collection of clothes gently onto the marble before picking up the wine bottle and examining it since it definitely hadn't been there when he left.

Upon further examination he found that it was a red wine, expensive looking along with a tag tied around the neck of the bottlewith _Crowley_ written in exquisite cursive writing.

Eli should have known Crowley would try to soften the blow of what his Demons had done last night with alcohol. Crowley was actually the only person **(a/n: i dont know if i can actually say this since crowley's a demon, but it's the only thing that works and i don't really fucking care since im putting this in and you know what i mean.)** who leaves Eli liquor of any kind. It's how he got most of the stuff in his liquor cabinet. Elijah knew Crowley didn't care about him, just that Eli didn't make going after him a personal thing.

Eli didn't have anything personal with Crowley as of the moment, but he definitely had plans to use what had happened as blackmail. Just to make it easier to get Crowley to comply with a few odds and ends Elijah had lined up for the next few months.

"Did you see the guy who put this here?" Eli directed the question at Rich (who he could now see since the mirror's face was towards him) and lifted the wine bottle so Richard could see it.

"Nah', it 'as j's there when I' woke up." Elijah nodded before placing the bottle into the liquor cabinet and grabbing a soul from the cabinet where those were **(a/n: i cant remember where the fuck i decided the souls were in relation to the liquor. i know the liquor was an overhead cabinet and the souls were near the ground, but i cant remember if they were on the same side of the room or not and i don't feel like looking. ill probably end up drawing a diagram for myself during one of my classes and go back that in further chaps and put a note saying how it'll be no matter what previous stuff has said)**. He downed it as he went into the bed room with the rest of last night's outfit in his arms so he could get dressed in a set of clothes that wasn't as dirty or wrinkly.

Pockets emptied onto the bed, he undressed himself and put all the clothes he had worn (including his favorite tie) onto hangers so he could get them dry cleaned. The outfit was due for it anyways.

He then went to his and Vincent's closet to retrieve a fresh dress shirt and slacks, changing into them before attaching his suspenders back to his pants, but not pulling them over his shoulders yet. He returned to the closet and looked at his small collection of ties: a simple black one, a red plaid tie, a spotted light grey tie, and the dreaded tie that Roy had gotten for him last Christmas Eve when Eli had been unfortunate enough to mention he didn't have many ties. The tie in question was pink with small martini glasses covering it. Elijah had never had occasion to wear it and hoped he never did. He was also grateful Vincent hadn't found it yet, probably because Vincent doesn't wear ties on a regular basis.

Eli smirked when he found the bow-tie he'd tried to get Vincent to wear. Eli was definitely going to get him to wear a bow-tie, no doubt about.

He decided to go without a tie for the day since even if he wore a one, Roy would have him take it off since it wouldn't be "festive" enough. He just hoped Roy wouldn't force him into an ugly sweater for a picture; Eli just wanted to left alone in his completely normal, part gentlemanly, part roughed up outfit.

Eli left the closet and plugged his phone into the charger, went through the kitchen, and into the backroom **(a/n: idk what i called the room e and v got the machetes out of, but that's this room incase it's kind of fuzzy in ur brain, which it probably is.)** as he'd come to call it. It was just an extra storage room he had where different odds and ends were stored along with where files and reports were sent (courtesy of a "mail system" the 1920 Manhattan Witch Coven had created so papers, letters, and small packages could be sent safely without risk of hunter interception) if they needed to get to him.

He gleaned over the papers that had collected in the basket over night: a few noise complaints, Skinwalker Patrol Reports, and the some requests for some one to come out and settle some dispute. He sorted which mail could be dealt with now, which could be dealt with later, the Skinwalker Reports along with using a pen to specifying for each of the different complaints what kind of Skinwalker Patrol was going to be needed.

He stacked the outgoing mail (the small "cases" he would be sending the Skinwalkers to deal with) on the metal table and pulled a small pouch from a nearby shelf and a box of matches. Eli dipped his fingers into the pouch and took out a small pinch of grayish dust. He sprinkled it over the outgoing papers while whispering a small incantation under his breath before lighting a match and setting the papers ablaze.

They erupted into flames for a short few seconds before the fire dissipated into nothing, the papers gone without a trace.

Elijah put the pouch and the matchbox back onto the shelf before grabbing the small pile of Skinwalker Patrol Reports. He left the backroom with the stack of papers, pulling the door shut behind him.

"'Yer doin' work on Christmas Eve?" Richard asked, recognizing that a stack of papers usually meant work even if Richard hadn't been in the apartment long.

"Just got to read through some reports, then I'm off to a Christmas Party." Elijah set the papers down on the marble beside the shrinking stack that was the miracles of December.

"And yer' gon' leave me here all alone?" Elijah was silent for a second, weighing over how he could fix the problem.

"Give me a second..." Elijah stepped into the bedroom for a brief moment before stepping back with the laptop. He set it on the island and fixed Richard's mirror so he could see it.

"What is tha' thing?" Richard asked, confused and extremely puzzled.

"Not very sure..." It was the truth. Eli had never found the time or the effort to actually figuring out what a computer was. Is. Whatever. "But Vincent showed me how you can do it all with your voice, all you've got to do is say 'Ok Google,' **(a/n: #notsponsered)** and say what you need." Elijah was clicking a little around the screen a bit, trying to fix it so Richard could use the laptop with out needing to touch it.

"Who's Vincent?" Elijah faltered a bit, the feeling of his insides eating themselves coming back in full force with the mention of Vincent's name. Maybe the feeling was just him missing Vincent?

**(a/n: btw i have no idea whether or not e spoke to rich about v but shhhhhh, e has feelings he doesn't understand)**

"He lives here with me, but he went home to Michigan for Christmas." Elijah went back to working with the computer, Richard nodding with a hum at his answer and taking a swig of his beer. It took a few minutes, but Eli had finally got the system set up. Maybe. He wasn't that sure actually.

He looked to the time on the computer, slight alarm running through him when he saw that it was 11 and he'd told Roy he'd be outside the Compound at 11:15. If he wanted to get finished with reading the reports _and_ get coffee, he'd have to leave now, read the reports in the shop along with drink his coffee there. He didn't mind staying in the shop to drink his coffee; it was more the fact that he was afraid June might harass him about last night or something like that the whole time.

"Shit, I've got to run, I'll see you at probably 9:15," Eli explained as he plugged the the laptop in so it wouldn't die before grabbing his phone from where it was charging in the bedroom along with his wallet and keys while turning out lights.

Rushing out of the apartment and pulling his coat on after his suspenders had found their way over his shoulders he silently wished he'd had more time to make sure the laptop was working. He knew if he was even half the Angel he'd be in Heaven, he'd disregard the fact he had places to be and things to do to be thorough. To make sure there was no possibility for failure.

He ascended the steps with a shake of his head and began to read over the first patrol report. Not having to do everything perfect was making him soft, but it was also a weight off his shoulders to have a few things he could not pay attention to without it having world ending consequences.

The report he was currently reading was for central Harlem. Apparently Demon activity had been a little strange, less foot soldier Demons patrolling and guarding certain buildings, but nothing that would cause Eli to want to up patrols in the area. Most of Harlem, which was run by the Demons, was easy to keep in check ever since Crowley had come into power. He was one of the few leaders that was easy to negotiate, but also easy to manipulate.

Elijah swung the door to the coffee shop open, the bell jangling above him and the few patrons in the shop looked up from where they sat. June was slouched over the counter with her head cradled in her arms, definitely feeling the effects of last night's little adventure. She tilted her head to peak out of her arms to see Elijah advancing across the floor, the papers in his hand lowering.

"How are you not hungover?" June grumbled, amazed by the fact that Eli could even stand since she knew for a fact that he'd drunk a ton of strong drinks.

Eli sent her a small smile as she began to make his drink, "Like I said, I can hold my liquor."

Her sunken eyes sent him a glare that chilled his grace. "You are a lucky son of a bitch and I envy you." She set the coffee cup onto the counter with out breaking eye contact, sliding it towards him. He smiled, though a skilled eye could tell he was scared.

June was a scary human.

He awkwardly slid the money over the counter, leaning back and sending a concerned look to June as he grabbed his coffee. "Are you okay..."

"Yeah," she rubbed her eyes vigorously and shook her head, "Just hungover. I'll be fine." Elijah nodded. He actually felt kind of bad. It had been instilled upon all the Angels that they were to love humans over everything else, and while Eli had never had occasion while with Heaven, the urge was still there. There when he did the miracles in December, there when he healed the scraped knee of a child who had fallen in the park, and it was here when he saw how much June's current headache hurt her.

He took a deep breath before glancing around the relatively empty shop, save for a couple laughing and talking in a corner booth and a man sitting with headphones and a laptop at one of the tables.

"Hold still," Elijah whispered as he softly set two fingers upon her forehead, his grace flowing from him to her and taking the pain away. Both of their eyes fell closed as what felt like happiness, hope, and redemption flowed through her whole body and washed away the pain like the soft lapping of a summer evening's waves while the sun set on the western horizon and you cuddled a loved one or were alone with you own thoughts on the beach.

It felt like every single positive memory she'd ever had resurfacing at the same time, even if for some reason she felt nipping cold at the edges of her mind. It was strange, but easy to ignore.

June and Eli both opened their eyes after Eli retracted his finger's from her forehead.

"What was-" June began, only to be cut off by Elijah.

"Learned a few things when I was still traveling." He sent her a closed lip smile before taking his coffee and papers to go sit at a table. She watched him walk away with a squint in her eyes and ideas of what could have even just happened churning through her brain.

Eli sat alone at one of the tables, sipping his coffee and reading more Skinwalker reports for Harlem, finding that one of the patrols had found that foot soldiers were being sent to Crowley's main "office" and that Crowley's hold on the demons might be slipping. Crowley was good at gaining power, but not so much at holding it.

Eli was suspecting the fact that the Darkness had been released had something to do with the movement of the foot soldiers.

He kept reading through the different reports, about how two Angels had been replaced and the fact that most of the smaller communities within the Borough were fairly quiet, probably because of the holidays.

As he moved the page he was reading to the back, his eyes caught the still smudged tallies on his palm and the sharp ache returned. It was still strange. Still foreign. Still something within his vessel he couldn't decode.

He produced a pen with a small flick of his wrist and placed the papers down so he could draw a fourth tally onto his hand and go over the fading other three. With another small flick the pen was gone.

With a sigh, he went back to reading before the sound of footsteps advancing toward him caught his attention. Elijah looked up from the papers to see June swiftly making her way towards his table.

She pulled out the chair and crossed her arms, her eyes raking over him and his papers. "First you take away what might have been one of the worst hangovers I've ever had and then I see you make a pen appear and disappear into thin air."

Eli thought for a second, knowing he shouldn't have pulled such a stupid stunt like teleport a pen to him. "I'm a magician," he delivered the information with a small smirk, leaning forward to 'produce' a pen from behind June's ear.

"A social services worker and a magician?" June quirked an eye brow.

Eli leaned back and shrugged, "Helps with the kids."

"And what about the hangover?"

"I told you. I learned a few things while I was traveling."

June huffed. "I'll find out one way or another."

Eli chuckled with a small shake of his head as she stood to return to her place behind the counter. He'd like to see her try.

**(a/n: me: we should let june live a nice normal life. she's got a husband and the job of her dreams.  
me to me: ruin her life. smash it to bits.  
** **seriously though, the whole time i was writing that i was like: no stop don't do it june that road ends in tears stahp just think of your husband and the normal life you have anD STAHP. any ways, back to the story.)**

Elijah soon finished his coffee and the papers, throwing the empty cup into the bin by the door before pulling the door open and the bell jingling above him as he left. He walked down the road with the papers still in his hands, leafing through them before having them disappear with a flick of the hand holding them, sending them back to the apartment.

Eli pulled his phone from his pocket: 11:15. He shut it off and the phone was soon back in his front trouser pocket. He tucked his hands into his coat pockets and directed his eyes forward.

One step.

His didn't slow as those around him grew close to the edge of the street.

Two steps.

He reached the edge, where the crosswalk met the sidewalk, but he didn't stop even though the little hand told him not to walk.

Three.

Elijah disappeared from the street corner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woop, end of Day Four Part 2. We're getting to what might be my favorite part of this day: the Skinwalker Christmas Eve Celebration. I'm hoping address what the waitress said about V being missed and such. Stuff like that.


	15. Holiday Special-Day Four, Part Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part three of how ever many fucking things this ends up being. I'm thinking there'll be two more after this, but then again I'm really bad at gauging how long something is gonna take.

Eli arrived in front of the towering compound with his hands still tucked into his coat pockets and the winter air gently shifting his hair. Crime had been kept to a minimum by the Skinwalkers and with the help of Eli, homeowners and city officials never thought twice about the amount of people living within the large, old warehouse.

You'd think it'd be frightening, the grass dead and the trees leaf-less, the fact that the wind felt like ice as it blew relentlessly over everything in sight or how the sky was coated in a thick grey at 11:15 in the afternoon, but that was winter. It was simply how the season made everything look.

The compound wasn't scary. It was home to the biggest family Eli had ever known, everyone looking after one another and making sure every one was taken care of. The compound emanated happiness and warmth from its every window, crack, and door.

He remembered fondly of all the memories he'd made when he helped the pack from generations of Pack Alphas ago fix and move into the warehouse. How he'd help sweep away years of dust or put in new windows, repair the roof or entertain the children. He remembered when the smallest child quietly asked him to stay and celebrate Christmas Eve after they had just finished the last repairs and gotten the whole pack moved in.

To Elijah, the compound felt like family, and that's the only way to describe the feeling that came from that building when you looked at it. It was comforting, not intimidating. It was everything he'd never had in Heaven.

Elijah made his way down the concrete path that stretch across the lawn from the street to the front doors donned with dark green wreaths.

**(a/n: I'd like to let you know I've come down with some writers block and as a way to try and fix it, I tried chewing tea leaves. Lord help me because _that_ did not. Btw, the reason the stuff above was so shit was because I couldn't figure out what words to put on the page.)**

The wind picked up as he walked, colder air blowing through the city along with the promise of snow. Eli ascended the few steps to the door guarded by two younger Skinwalkers, both looking to be in their mid-twenties. He gave them both a curt nod, the taller and seemingly older one keeping his eyes cast downward while the second dared to rake his eyes over Elijah.

Eli smirked to himself as he pulled one of the heavy doors open and stepped inside, mulling the fact that a beta Skinwalker had even dared to look at him. Betas are more submissive by nature than alphas. It's instinct for them to follow instruction in addition to not making eye-contact with those who were above you.

It was just customary, though Eli was never fond of that cultural aspect of the Skinwalkers. He liked it when they went against their instincts, even if it was only an upward glance. Maybe that's why Eli had been so drawn to Vincent, an alpha who left his birth pack, was unable to integrate with another pack(though Eli was starting to have his doubts that "thing's just weren't working out" spiel) **(a/n: no idea if that's the real quote)** , and showed no signs of wanting to start a family, and Elijah knew for a fact that most alphas his age at least had mates.

Maybe there was a different reason for Elijah's fascination with him.

**(a/n: ehehehe foreshadowing that sounds like one thing but is a completely other thing)**

Eli pulled the door shut behind him quickly to keep as much heat in the building as possible. It could get quite cold in the winter, and heating such a large building didn't always work so well.

The front foyer was electric with energy from the children who were using it as a play area, kids and puppies running on the ground floor while other raced each other up the stairs with yips, howls, and giggles echoing throughout the stairwell.

Eli began to walk towards the large set of two way swinging doors that lead to the main warehouse floor, nearly toppled more than a few times by a sporadic child or puppy who sprinted in front of him or between his legs.

With a last look at the stair well he pushed the doors open and stepped onto the warehouse floor that was so very different than when he first entered the building. It was clear of all the large shelves that once held rotting boxes and created never ending corridors so that a common area could be constructed. Well, not necessarily constructed, but there were long lines of tables with benches next to them so people could have places to eat or just sit.

The ceiling rose high and really it was more a long hall than anything, though in the sense of a fantasy novel's great hall or where Harry Potter sat for his first meal at Hogwarts. It didn't have the magic in the normal sense of the word, but in its own way. The way the natural light spilled from the highest windows and how the sounds of each Skinwalker blended into one magical song that always brought Eli's memories to happier times. The way the Christmas tree glittered silvers and gold and every color you could imagine from the immense number of ornaments that had been collected over the years.

It was magical in its own way.

Elijah scanned the hall for Roy, eyes quickly finding the man where he and Eli would usually hang out during the Christmas Eve celebration: next to the beer coolers.

Now, while it sounds strange, Eli had good reason for it. Well, not good, just tradition. Eli had stopped coming to the Christmas Eve celebration after a new bloodline of alphas took reign of the pack. They didn't have problems with Eli, just weren't fond of him at a pack celebration. So Eli stopped coming to Skinwalker Christmas Eve for a few generations till Roy's alpha bloodline took over.

While Elijah had been absent the children had made it a habit of stealing a few beers to share between themselves, unbeknownst to the adults. And then Eli was invited back and their beer stealing tradition had been abruptly halted in its tracks by the Angel since he caught them every time. That didn't mean they didn't stop trying, so the tradition went from underage drinking to merely _trying_ to drink underage, which the adults like better. 

Elijah strode across the floor, passing small groups of betas and being passed by more children at play. Roy turned when Elijah was around five steps away, give or take, probably because he could smell him. Alphas, especially Pack Alphas, had the best sense of smell out of all their other Skinwalker counterparts.

"Elijah!" Roy bellowed out and opened his arms to invite him into a hug, which Eli wasn't very keen on partaking in, but he knew there was no way of getting out of it.

"Roy, it's-" Eli began before Roy crushed him in a hug, Roy's nose slightly scenting him as he would a member of his pack. "-Good to see you," Eli strained out, patting Roy's back slightly, though it was a feat since Roy was holding him around the arms.

Roy pulled back and held Elijah at arm's length, eyeing him up and down. Eli looked down at himself before gazing skeptically at Roy.

"I see you met the medium from down south." Eli opened his mouth to say something, but stopped to try and find the right words. He moved his head as if he was to begin a sentence, even opening his mouth, but it all ended in a light glare.

Roy didn't move, just holding Eli at arms length. Eli could tell he was still scenting him.

"His scent's all over you."

Eli rolled his eyes and let out a short breath of air before shrugging Roy's hands off and smiling dryly at the floor. "That does tend to happen when, you know," Eli pushed his brows upwards as he shrugged lightly.

"Yup." Roy nodded and the air between them was silent for a few moments. "Did you have protection?"

"Yes, Roy," Elijah groaned out. Roy could be like a concerned father sometimes and Eli could understand why: Roy had a natural instinct to protect those in his pack and that somehow included Eli. Eli didn't understand how he got lumped in with the pack, but it did make controlling the Skinwalkers easier.

"It's not something you should take lightly!"

"Roy, I think I know. I left Heaven roughly fifty days after the death of Christ, but you are right. It isn't something to take lightly." Roy nodded, and Eli felt slightly awkward.

**(a/n: that sounds passive aggressive. it's not supposed to be, it's just supposed to be e agreeing that it's not something to be taken lightly.)**

"Elijah!" Roy's wife made her way over to the two of them and hugged Eli, but not before sending a look (probably about the scent that was all over Elijah) to Roy who merely answered it with a smile.

"Margaret," Eli nodded in the hug, something he'd not gotten used to after all the years, "How are the kids?"

"The are kids doing great. Jonathan's pack up in Vermont is growing nicely, Timothy's looking like he's going to present as an alpha, and Lucy just presented as an alpha a week or so ago," Roy answered with a heartfelt smile, Margaret releasing Eli from her hold and letting Roy slip a loving hand over her waist.

Jonathan was Roy's oldest son, and had he not decided to move to Vermont with his mate and a few other Skinwalkers he would be the one to inherit the title of Pack Alpha. Timothy was their youngest son at age ten, and a fiery ball of energy at that. The boy reminded him of an old friend. Always getting into trouble or making it. Lucy was their only daughter. She was had turned fourteen in late November and Skinwalkers usually present around ages thirteen to fourteen. It was no surprise that she was an alpha seeing as she was the Pack Alphas' daughter.

"Congratulations on Lucy's presenting," Elijah commented with a nod, and both parents beamed. "And how's Isaac?" Elijah asked a question about their second oldest son, the one who would become the next Alpha after his parents retired, to keep the conversation going.

"Oh, Isaac's wonderful," Margaret's smile swelled, if that was even possible.

"Boy's done a pretty bang-up job of defending his title as next in line," Roy added. Elijah nodded. Just like a Pack Alpha can be challenged for his or her spot on the chain of command, so could the next in line. It was rare, but Eli had seen it happen a few times in the pack before. "Speak of the devil, here he comes now," Roy stated as Isaac came over to the three adults from his place within a group of children.

Isaac was a natural born leader and usually organized the attempted raid for beer. Eli had to admit he was good at providing moral support and encouragement, but he wasn't so good at planing. He hoped that when he becomes Pack Alpha he'll have a mate or at least one in mind who could balance him out with good decision making skills.

Isaac finally reached the three of them, and Elijah noticed that he had grown a lot since he'd seen him last Christmas Eve. He was now around three inches taller than Eli's height of five foot eleven. He'd grown out his dark brown hair, a color identical to his mother's, and his muscle mass had also started to fill out so he wasn't much of the lanky teen he used to be. He'd make a fine Pack Alpha and Elijah was sure of it.

"Good to see you again Isaac," Elijah smiled, genuinely excited that maybe the next Pack Alpha wouldn't insist on hugs.

"You too, Mister," Isaac extended a hand to Elijah (and Eli was thankful it was a hand), "Let's have a fair match."

Elijah quirked a brow, but took his hand in his own all the same. "I'd thought after this many years you'd know fair isn't going to get you anything." Eli let a smirk pass over his lips as he looked up at the now taller than him nineteen year old. "Take it from me, kid. If you're gonna win, you can't play nice. Not even with your own team." Eli released Isaac's hand.

Isaac crossed his arms over his chest. "And how would you know?"

"Lets just say Heaven used to win when they actually listened to their 'war and battle statistical analysis consultant,'" Eli used air quotes around the title Vincent had given him one late afternoon when Elijah's past with Heaven had come up.

It also wasn't a problem that it was common knowledge to the Skinwalkers that he was an Angel. Not anymore at least. After the Angels had become more prominent in the world a few years ago he decided it wasn't worth trying to keep quiet, that and the whole reason had been to make sure Heaven wouldn't come after him.

Heaven ended up deeming him too dangerous for capture since they'd spent a millennia or so after his escape try to find and kill or capture him, which only resulted in large amounts of Heaven's Angels dying (lets just say Elijah's not proud of what past him did). Faking his death had also helped. They gave up, Eli got bored, and neither of them posed constant threats to each other anymore.

Well, technically they did, but they weren't actively trying to kill each other.

Isaac blinked, his arms falling back to their sides. "Wait, is that why you're so good at this? Because you worked in Heaven and advised them on how to win wars?"

A wicked smile split across Elijah's face.

Isaac's mouth hung open before he closed it and a determined look glazed over his eyes. 

"We're gonna get that beer this year, Mister."

"Then I wish you the best of luck."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of part three. Woop. Welp, i'm excited to write the action part of Skinwalker Christmas (this is just exposition kind of) so the next part of this will be fun. After I finish up this Holiday shit I'm gonna do a bunch of read throughs of everything so i can edit the and I might even take time before Chapter Two to rewrite Chapter One's prologue.


	16. Holiday Special-Day Four, Part Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hot damn this holiday special is taking a long ass time like what the fuck. why does shit like this happen. i just start writing and it doesnt stop.
> 
> (prepare yourself for horrible plot and character development)

December 24th, Day Four-Part Four:

**(a/n: k so i failed to give a full description of the warehouse other than little snipet things, so we're just gonna pretend that the description i'm doing now is meant to be here and not because i forgot)**

The compound was a warehouse, though the key word in that sentence is _was._ It had been gutted and rebuilt from the inside out to accommodate the whole of the East Pack. The outer shell still resembled a warehouse and the inside held the faintest traces with the high ceiling's metal ribbing and the concrete floor, but skylights that let natural light in and the doors lining the length of the common hall brought it away from its past.

The doors were on two levels, the first level being the ground floor and the second a balcony-like area. They stretched from one end of the hall to the next and served as living quarters to Skinwalker families, each with a capability of housing four. It wasn't hard for a family of four to live in what you might think (and were in reality) are small housing arrangements. Really, it was only possible because of the cultural dynamic of Skinwalkers that they simply needed a place to sleep. A pack would cook, eat, and spend a majority of their time together.

Elijah found it quite convenient, actually.

Community bathing, toilets, and the like were in the basement along with storage, extra housing, and the kitchen. The warehouse-floor-turned-dining-hall had the main entrance on one end, set off from the rest of the building by a wall. It also served as a stair well, two sets of stairs going from basement to roof. 

On the other end of the dining hall was a second entrance that lead to a backyards of sorts so the children had a place outside to play safely, no matter how little the area actually was.

The Skinwalkers were thriving in the compound and Elijah was proud he'd been able to direct them to a place where they could live and help them build it (in both the physical manner and the manner that he used a little bit of Angel-Magic to convince the city to let them do the renovations and building).

Elijah watched Isaac retreat back to his place under the balcony-like area on the right side of the Compound, seeming to begin briefing the group of children gathered their.

"He's growing up nicely," Elijah commented and Roy beamed with pride and adjusted his footing slightly.

Roy smiled and sent a warm look to his wife who was still standing next to him. "He takes after his mother," Roy pecked Margaret's cheek and she let out a short laugh.

"He gets his stubbornness from you though," Margaret smirked and walked off, leaving Elijah amused and Roy dumbfounded, but love still in his eyes.

"I see your wife's still got her spunk." Elijah smiled and glanced from the group of children to the beer coolers before returning his attention back to Roy.

Roy returned the smile, "I'd hope so; it's what makes her such a good Pack Alpha and mother." When a Pack Alpha takes a mate, it's almost always another Alpha contrary to most popular belief. It's to make sure that if one Alpha is injured the other can still keep the pack on its feet. They're a team that works together for the good of the pack.

Eli's eyes wandered back to the children and noticed that Isaac was talking to a larger group than Eli usually saw him with. "What can you tell me about this year's beer raid, Roy?"

Roy was a little startled by the question, but he did expect that Elijah's main focus would be beating the kids at their little game. Elijah always reminded him of a young teen no matter how old he would tell Roy he was. "They've decided to join forces and become one big group instead of the little groups they're in every year."

"Really?" Elijah questioned. He couldn't remember a Christmas where they had ever been one big group. They always stayed in three distinctive splinter groups: the younger children ages seven to nine, the tweens from ages ten to thirteen, and the fourteen-year-olds to nineteen-year-olds were lead by Isaac, though he's (secretly) always have help from an alpha name Ethan.

Elijah had seen that Ethan was extremely good at planning, but he didn't work well with others. He had always thought Ethan and Isaac would make an amazing duo for leading, but they had always been driven a part by the fact that Ethan's father, Sean **(a/n: quick reminder that sean is the skinwalker that was gonna leave v at the pound and yelled at v while in dog form)** , wasn't fond of them being friends. He'd pressured Ethan into challenging Isaac for his title as Next Pack Alpha and had pushed his thoughts about the pack and his own grief onto his son.

Elijah felt bad for the child at times.

"That's pretty smart," Elijah muttered under his breath as he watched Ethan stand. He was taller than Isaac by a few inches, but they were a near match in muscular build. Eli watched as he grabbed Isaac by the collar of his shirt and dragged him forcefully closer, glaring pointedly all the while. Isaac merely returned the gaze

Roy nodded. "I told Isaac if he wants to win he's gonna have to have an army, not just a small troop."

Elijah watched as a few words were thrown between the two teenage boys before Ethan shoved Isaac out of his hold, turned on his heel, and walked away joined by a few other Skinwalkers. "It'll only work if he can keep the army together."

**(this is a break in the text because we're not gonna be focusing on E and roy rn but _shhh_ this is very natural and just some random symbols showing you stuff has changed)**

"Everyone know what their doing?" Isaac asked the collective with a clap of his hands. Ethan, the alpha who had previously challenged Isaac numerous times, raised his hand.

"All I have to do is make it look like we hate each other?" He was nonchalant with his question, both the way he said it with a tired, care-free air and how he held himself, sitting and relaxing against the large support pole that held up the balcony they were under. His arms crossed limply over his chest and his unkempt looking dark brown almost black hair contributed to his laid-back atmosphere. He was dressed in an unzipped hoodie and jeans.

Isaac nodded and Ethan pulled himself to his feet, towering over Isaac by a few inches. Ethan's face twisted into a glare and he brought himself a few steps closer to Isaac, but pulled him the rest of the distance by his collar.

"This work?" Ethan growled the sentence out, what sounded like true malice and venom dripping from the words.

Isaac's whiskey colored eyes clashed with Ethan's green as they shared each other's breath. "Doing great," Isaac strengthened his glare.

"I've got a lot of practice with hating you," Ethan never broke character, but Isaac nearly smirked at the comment. It felt cliché and exactly like something Ethan would say as a joke to mess with Isaac.

"Yeah, right," Isaac tried to keep his face pensive, but he could't help the corners of his lips turning upward.

He saw the edges of Ethan's do the same, but he was being shoved away before he could see for sure. All he saw was Ethan marching towards the other side of the compound followed by a group of Skinwalkers they had chosen to go with him.

**(anybody think they could be a couple or is it just me. also, look at this inconspicuous break in text that may or may not be telling you stuff is changing)**

Elijah and Roy were now seated next to the coolers of beers along with a few other adults. They had been sharing stories, gossiping, and over all just having a good time. Elijah was enjoying himself, though he was concerned with how the children's raid on the beer was coming along. He'd seen how they had split into different groups again, even if it was two instead of three.

He was monitoring how each was functioning, finding the inner-workings of each running much smoother than when they had only been lead by Isaac.He speculated the reason for the Ethan's breaking away was because their alpha-ness was clashing. It came to the front of Eli's mind that if Isaac wanted to successfully lead all the groups, he would need to share the title of leader with Ethan. Elijah hoped that Isaac could not only see the simple remedy for his problem, but he also wanted to see what Ethan decision making combined with Isaac's leadership skills could do.

"Elijah," he was brought out of his thoughts by Roy calling his name, "You know what's going on with this 'Darkness' business that some of my patrols have been hearing the Demons talk about. Want to elaborate on what it is?" Elijah had briefed Roy on the problem a month or so ago, though he'd never found occasion to decide to tell the whole pack. He didn't have a reason not to either.

"You know the creation story?" Elijah began, "God creates light in the darkness. Thing they don't mention in the books is that darkness wasn't just darkness. It was a being as powerful as God himself. I suggested we destroy it once and for all, make sure there's no way it could ever pose a threat again, but like any large problem Heaven faces that has a chance for raising its ugly head again, they just swept it under the rug." The group was quiet, some nodding while others thought the information over in their minds. "The Darkness doesn't pose an immediate threat as of now, but I do have plans in place in case the need arises."

Roy leaned over to another Skinwalker who was sitting near him. "Told you there was nothing we needed to worry about," he whispered, though Elijah heard it. He chuckled to himself before his attention was caught by the doors to the stairs opening and a group of young kids poured into the dining hall and towards the beer, a battle cry present on their lips.

They were quickly deterred by their parents, a stern scolding and a warning that if they got caught trying to pull a stunt like that again, there would be no Christmas.

Elijah had been expecting as much from the younger kids seeing as they always tried the same tactic year after year, but what he hadn't been expecting was for it to be a mere distraction. The older children tried to sneak up to the coolers and steal a beer or two while most of the adults looked occupied, Elijah included.

However, Elijah was not occupied completely by the distractionary siege.

Elijah manifested behind the two who had been sent to collect the beer, his hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers and passively watched as they grabbed a few.

"Basic, but smart," Elijah remarked, denouncing his presence. The two halted their actions and slowly turned to see the Angel towering over where they were crouched on the floor.

Elijah nodded towards the open cooler, eyebrows raised a hair, and the two looked to each other before sighing and placing the beers back in the cooler. Elijah smiled and sent them on their way, back to Isaac's band of thieves.

Roy had already sat down, most of the younger kids sent on their way when Elijah flopped down next to him with a sigh.

"Was that a distraction?"

Elijah leaned back, "Yup."

Roy chuckled a bit. _"Nice."_

**(break in text this is not words lol)**

The two Skinwalker children who had tried to steal the beer returned to 'base camp.'

"Ethan said that would happen, didn't he?" Elliot **(a/n: quick reminder that Elliot was the skinwalker who called E about Vincent being left at the pound)** questioned from his place next to Isaac. He was smaller than Isaac by more than a few inches at his height of five foot nine. He had loose, orange-y red curls that spilled onto his forehead along with hazel eyes, though there were flecked with emerald more than any color and freckles splattered over his nose and cheeks. He not only differed from Isaac in the physical characteristics, but also how they presented; Isaac being an alpha and Elliot being a beta, but you'd think he was an omega had you not scented him.

Isaac nodded, agreeing with Elliot. "Yeah, but he said it was to lull him into a false sense of security or something like that."

"So now I go get an update from him and tell him he can go ahead with stage two?" Elliot's voice was soft, but firm. A characteristic so slight you almost never noticed it, but just there enough to put it into the back of your mind that he wasn't an omega.

"Right. I'll brief my group on what Ethan and his group are doing." Ethan had decided that it would be best if they didn't tell any Skinwalkers till the plan was about to go into motion as he'd known Elijah had been able to get plans out of some children.

Elliot and Isaac went their separate ways, Elliot walking around the edges of the compound un-noticed (a perk of being a low-end beta) and Isaac beginning to address the group.

Ethan seemed to be discussing something with his group when Elliot arrived, though he turned as soon as he scented him.

"Isaac say's stage two is a go on his end?" Elliot nodded, looking to the ground when he noticed some of the alphas in Ethan's group looking at him. He wasn't fond of attention from people he didn't know since he was just plain shy.

"I never noticed how small you are; it's cute," one of the female alphas called from her place with the others a few paces away. Elliot had looked up when she'd begun to speak, but his gaze quickly fixed itself back on the floor once she finished he statement, a blush dusting his freckled cheeks.

Ethan noticed immediately how uncomfortable it all made Elliot. He sent a small glare towards the female before stepping between her and Elliot, obstructing her view.

Elliot looked up, and quite a bit since Ethan was a whopping  eleven inches taller than him. He smiled at Ethan and Ethan returned the favor.

"I've already briefed my group on what's to happen, we just have to put the plan into action."

Elliot nodded. "My cousin Miranda is un-mated, around the Angel's vessel's age, and more than a little intoxicated." He relayed the information steadily, his voice never wavering till he glanced at to where the female alpha had moved so she could see him again.

Ethan noticed and put a hand on his shoulder and guided him away. "Let's go then," he growled, glaring at the female out of the corner of his eye. While a Ethan could be scary as he was in that instance, Elliot knew it wasn't because of him, but because of the actions of another teen being just another teen.

It took a little time to corral Elliot's drunk cousin towards Elijah, but they eventually did it and watched safely from behind one of the long tables. Isaac had joined them to watch the drunken red-head stumble her way towards Elijah.

They watched with bated breath as she grew nearer, but when she got within what they recognized as near enough for one to scent another, she simply turned around.

"I thought you made her think he was the most amazing thing?" Isaac asked in a whisper yell.

"We did!" Ethan countered.

"The only reason she would have turned around is if he has already mated," Elliot mentioned the fact, something that applied to nearly every Skinwalker. They were one of the most faithful supernatural creatures and because of that they wouldn't even help another of a different _species_ all-together cheat.

"He's an Angel. I thought they didn't take mates," Ethan stated, but trailed off when he noticed Isaac's face. 

A face of realization.

"What?" Ethan finally asked.

"That explains why he smelled like that median that flew in..."

"You didn't recognize the scent?" Elliot asked quietly. This earned him a concerned look from the both of them. "What?"

"Elliot, none of us should be able to tell that from someone's scent yet. We don't know what _that_ does to a person's scent," Ethan whispered the sentence as both he and Isaac watched the minute motions of the tiny red-head between them. A red-head they had thought was innocent.

"I have an older sister!"

"That doesn't mean anything," that both said it at the same time as they judged their small friend.

The three of them heard and felt a slight _woosh_ before a shadow towered over them. "What doesn't mean anything?" It was Elijah.

The three of them turned slowly to meet the Angel's eyes.

"Nothing, sir," Elliot answered.

Elijah watched the teens skeptically. _"Right..."_ The three nodded, though it wasn't a very convincing display as they smiled awkwardly. "And I'm assuming you're not working together?" Silence. "It was clever while it lasted. I'll have you know I believed you and I might have to use that sometime." Elijah smiled and the teens found themselves both flattered and scared. "Well, I'll let you get back to your plans, but know that you won't have to keep the little charade going." Elijah feigned a smile and was gone.

The three let out a breath they didn't know they had been holding.

"You got any other plans?" Isaac pushed himself to his feet and pulled Elliot up while Ethan stood.

"I've got something in mind."

**(changing narrative focus and telling you that no one should tell you what type of day you should have)**

Elijah watched with lackadaisical interest as Ethan's group made their way across the compound and back to Isaac's group. Maybe Ethan wasn't as bad with others as he'd lead to be.

Most of the problems he'd seen dealt with excessive use of force when dealing with others, most likely because from a young age his father hadn't shown him that pure violence wasn't the way to solve problems. He'd seen him isolate himself at a young age and had only made friends after Elliot had approached him, calmer than almost any adult or child who would speak to him.

Elijah had seen the three musketeers grow, Isaac learning to be a leader, Elliot coming out of his shell, and Ethan learning how to deal with others more every day.

"Where'd you go?" Roy asked, sauntering over to where Elijah was relaxing.

"Kids."

"They get the jump on you?"

Elijah let out short snicker, his gaze falling to the ground. "Kind of. They had a pretty good plan going."

Roy smiled. "Think they'll actually win this year?"

"I can't have them ruining my reputation, can I?"

**(narrative focus shift and also, e, im sure saying you let a bunch of kids beat you looks fabulous on a resume)**

Ethan had just finished discussing the plan with Isaac and Elliot, working out all the kinks that could overturn it. After Isaac addressed the group, part one was "engaged" as some of the younger children called it.

It was another distraction, but they were to use one of their own. And there was no flirting. And Ethan was the distraction.

He walked to Elijah's place at the table and the group watched as Elijah stood and seemed to speak to him.

"This another distraction?" Elijah's back was to the group, and it was a god-send **(a/n: not sure if that's a pun, but if so, it's not intended)**. Most of the children were watching, and not secretively at that.

Ethan froze for a split second before starting to carry the conversation. "No, sir, I was just wondering if there were any rules you'd like to distinguish since most are just unsaid."

Elijah quirked a brow. "Do you have any you'd like to specify first?"

Ethan hadn't thought far enough into the future to think that just maybe Eli would turn the question on him. He opened his mouth to start rattling off different rules to keep Elijah busy and readied his hand to give the signal when he noticed his father storming furiously towards the two of them.

Elijah noticed and turned around, not only noticing Isaac and his band of thieves but Sean too.

**(A/n: i mentioned sean is ethan's father, right?) (a/n: i did, but in case you forgot, sean = ethan's dad)**

"You stop talking to my boy!" Sean bellowed in his surly, near drunken voice.

"I believe it was Ethan here who first engaged-" Sean cut him off again with a shove.

"I said stop talking to him you low-level _bitch!"_ Elijah was slightly taken aback, but was other wise unfazed by the slur. The rest of the compound on the other hand fell silent.

"Sean!" Roy was on his feet and between the him and Elijah. "I'd like to remind you you're one of the lowest ranks in this pack," a growl came forth through Roy's voice as the sentence went on.

Sean spat at Eli, missed, but the feeling was still there. "He's not part of this pack. He doesn't say who does what!"

Murmurs washed over compound and a few cheers of agreement sounded from the odd Skinwalker.

"I may not be part of this pack, _Sean,_ "he lazily washed his eyes over the man's rumpled clothes, "but like I stated to you when you were demoted, I give you food, shelter, and I'm what keeps this pack safe-"

"Is that what you said when my wife was killed! That you keep this pack safe!" Roy was having trouble keeping Sean away from Elijah, and while it might have seemed to an unknowing eye that it was to protect Elijah, it was really to protect Sean.

"What happened to your wife was an accident." What Elijah was saying was true, Sean's wife had been a volunteer for a possibly lethal detainment mission for some Werewolves Elijah had been having trouble capturing. Because of her death they'd been able to detain the Werewolves without killing any of them. All of the volunteers and their families had known the risks.

Sean seethed with anger. "You're a just a self-centered Angel who gets off on having control of others and letting others die. What is it they always say? 'I'm an Angel of the Lord'?"

Elijah decided the only way he was going to stabilize the situation was with a show of strength.

Roy slid backwards, away from Sean and behind Elijah. The lights died with a crack and one of the lights sent golden-white sparks spilling to the floor. Ethan stumbling back a step as Sean was slid (less gently than Roy might I add) to Elijah. Elijah fisted a hand into his collar and pulled Sean's face closer to his.

"I might be an Angel, but I deserted the Lord a long time ago."

The compound was silent save for the crackling of electricity.

Elijah shifted his grip on Sean's collar, Sean sweating bullets and his tired eyes widening, "But lets just say I was returning the favor," Elijah added with a whisper, only Sean and Ethan hearing it. Elijah threw Sean away.

Sean's breathing was ragged as he righted himself. "Doesn't matter what you are or aren't, you're just a coward."

"You're digging your own grave here, Sean."

"This is your grave, _bitch._ " Sean spat at Elijah feet. "You've been digging it since you set foot in this city."

"Then leave." It was Roy who spoke this time, finally finding his voice. Elijah looked back to him, bewildered for a second that Roy was actually considering the option. Elijah had know for a while that it might be the only option for Sean, he just didn't expect Roy to agree.

Sean puffed out his chest and glared at the two of them. "Let's go, Ethan." Sean made a grab for Ethan's arm, but Ethan pulled back.

"I'm not going with you." Ethan's voice was firm as he looked down at his father from his height.

Sean made another grab for his arm, this time successful. "Did that sound like a question to you?" Sean growled out, yanking Ethan's arm forcefully with his iron grip.

Ethan's face twisted into hatred and disgust as he wrenched his arm out of his father's hold. "You can take your orders and shove them up your ass." 

Sean sprung at Ethan, meaty hands going for his throat, but Ethan quickly shoved the smaller man away and socked him in the face. Sean fell to the ground and held his nose. He looked up, face bleeding and hatred the main emotion on his face, but Elijah could see sadness he felt in his soul. The sadness because he knew his son meant what he was saying. "That was for drinking too much. For not comforting me when mom died. For taking your emotions out on _me_ and making me fight your battles. Making me challenge my best friend for the title of Next Pack Alpha when all I want to is to live a simple life and be better father than you have _ever_ been to me." Ethan was breathing hard by the end of his short speech. He'd been wanting to tell Sean that for a while.

"Ethan," Sean stood shakily, "I'm your father," he reached out to touch Ethan's cheek, but Ethan pushed his hand away, glare never wavering.

"My father died along with my mom." **(a/n: shit man that's a cheesy line but i like it)**

Sean looked to the floor and nodded. "I'm leaving!" He called to the whole compound, "And anyone who wants to join me is welcome!" A few Skiwalkers made their way toward him. Not many, but enough.

"You are all to be out of the city by the sunset of the twenty-sixth of December in this year of 2015," Elijah informed them, causing most to scowl at him.

A few spat at him and Roy as they left, some even calling Roy 'an Angel's bitch.' They left through the front doors of the compound, though Elijah knew they'd need to return for their belongings.

The lights came back on with a whir save for the one Elijah had blown out. He scrubbed a hand over his face and let out a breath.

"I need some air and I'll have a replacement for the bulb delivered by tomorrow," Elijah spoke, exhaustion evident in his voice as he clapped a hand to Roy's shoulder and disappeared to the outside.

The cool air was refreshing on his skin as he gazed past the swaying, leafless trees to the over-cast sky. He was sure it would snow and he knew the children would be ecstatic because of it.

He wasn't wearing his coat and he could feel his vessel start to shiver as he tucked his hands into his pockets. Worse than the shower, but better than the arctic. Eli's mind wandered to the time he'd gone to the antarctic and seen penguins, strange but fascinating creatures. He wondered if Vincent had ever seen a penguin, but the twisting feeling returned when he thought of him. The way he'd probably look a Elijah strangely for asking the question and the smile with wonder-filled eyes as he looked at the penguins.

Just three more days.

**(narrative focus shift, also, i really hope that when i do a read through of all that the pacing is good.)**

Ethan and Isaac sat alone, away from the other children, on the foundation for one of the balcony's pillars. Ethan's hands were clasped in his lap, twisting his fingers and keeping his eyes down cast. Isaac had an arm slung over his shoulder. He was desperately trying to comfort him, but to no avail.

They both scented Elliot, and watched the red head hold up a beer.

"How-" Isaac began.

"I knew we weren't going to get another chance like this since we're all turning twenty next year, so I took the opportunity," Elliot shrugged and held the beer out to the two of them.

Ethan shook his head with a laugh as Isaac took the bottle from Elliot's hand and examined it.

"Congratulations, boys," Elijah sounded tired, but he couldn't say he wasn't at least a little excited someone had beat him, even if it was merely by utilizing the situation. It was simple and something Elijah himself had done before.

"We won?" Isaac was genuinely surprised.

Elijah nodded. "That one's all yours, just don't tell anyone how you got it till all _this_ blows over." A warm smile enveloped his face.

"Thank you, sir," Elliot said quietly, head bowed in either fear or respect, Elijah couldn't tell.

"Drink responsibly," he called behind him with a wave of his hand so he could go tell Roy he was leaving.

Isaac pushed the bottle into Ethan's hands. "You should take the first sip."

"Really?"

"You _were_ the distraction," Elliot reaffirmed Isaac's statement, but they all laughed at the comment.

"Alright..." Ethan eyed the bottle before twisting the cap off and slowly taking the the first swig from the murky-brown glass. _"Oh that tastes like shit,"_ he said as he barely swallowed the small mouthful he'd taken and shoved the bottle back into Isaac's arms.

They all laughed, and after they had all had at least one sip, they decided all those years of planning and trying to beat Elijah really weren't worth it.

**(last narrative switch, wasn't even rly gonna do it but then yeah, this happened)**

Elijah left the Skinwalker Christmas Eve Celebration earlier than he usually did, but he thought it was for the greater good that he didn't stick around. He didn't return home to the apartment, simply wandered around the city looking for a nice bench where he could sit and do what Angels had been meant to do: watch over humans.

Chilly, yes, but Elijah's grace kept him warm and the thought that in three more days Vincent would return kept him from drowning himself in liquor as Christmas rolled around.

At least for the time being.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty, day four, part four is a wrap. Man I hope the pacing isn't wonky when I do a read through. This part ended up being about 5000 words, so that's fun. (yeah real fun. I skipped out on studying to do this. It's a problem.) Also, I know I said in that Never Have I Ever-Question Submissions thing (go submit things) this would be up by Tuesday, but I want you to know that if I ever tell you something will happen on a certain day, do not under any circumstances believe me. Ever. (you have all learned the hard way, but it turns out I need at least six hours of sleep so I can't write all night)
> 
> After-Read-Through-Word:  
> i like the pacing for this for the most part so that's a first. Also, I hope to be doing more with Ethan, Elliot, and Isaac.


	17. Holiday Special-Day Four, Part Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to what might be the last part of Day Four. Exciting.  
>   
> Also, Sunday upload to make up for being late with last week's chapter/part/thing.

Day Four, December 24th:

The wind pulled itself through the city, touching the buildings, the people, and the trees. It brought cold and the nipping scent of city air, but it also brought the thought of snow, innocent and soft, each snowflake its own, never a copy.

Humans always used it as an analogy for themselves, and Elijah sometimes amused himself with the thought that it was what God intended when He created snowflakes. He would always look further, though. The way that such innocence can turn into a raging storm, burying cities and killing crops. The way they would accumulate on the ground in piles of pure white, sparkling and shimmering in different angles of light. How the piles would melt after time and could flood towns or burrows of small animals, bringing destruction and death.

He saw both sides of snowflakes and as an Angel he'd seen every side of man.

Elijah drew in a deep breath as he pushed his hands further into his coat pockets. He exhaled, watching his breath mist in the air as the first snowflakes began to fall. They melted quickly on his nose and face, but stuck longer in his hair and on his eyelashes. Elijah wasn't the only person to notice the snowfall.

Children in the park began squealing and catching them on their tongues and hands. A small smile crept across Elijah's face as he watched the children play, innocent like the snowflakes they caught. Their lives had just begun and were nowhere near the pain they would have to endure to thrive. The painful transformation from child-hood to adult-hood. The knowledge they would be taught and what they would learn on their own shaping their lives forever.

Yet a human's life was still simple. They were mortal, destined for death in the short time of eighty years if they were lucky to even live that long. It was astonishing to him that they could know of their mortality, their destiny for death, and still live lives Elijah had envied.

It was a sin, envy, but Elijah had found himself envious day after day for the ability to go on when you have absolutely no purpose. The innocence of a child or a snowflake to just _go._ Elijah's dilemma was his inability to know what purpose he was meant to serve anymore.

He stayed with Heaven even after they had told him he was not needed. He stayed for century after century when they locked him away and punished him for his wrong-doings, when it had merely been him doing the only thing he'd known how to do since his creation: win wars.

Elijah scrubbed his hands over his face. Christmas reminded him of Heaven. It reminded him of the celebrations he'd had with his brothers and sisters. When he still believed they loved him and when he loved them with all of his being. He still did, really.

A hand tapped him lightly on the shoulder, bringing him out of his thoughts. Elijah's hands fell away from his face as he looked up to see a young woman in a wheelchair. Her form was slightly gaunt and her long brown hair flowed from beneath a grey wool hat. He eyes were brown in color, and while hopeful, Elijah could see doubt leaking in at the edges of her vision. Elijah pitied that such a strong soul was confined to a dying body.

"I'm sorry, mister, you looked sad," her voice was soft, straining to be heard. Elijah gave her a halfhearted smile before looking to the ground again.

"No, no," he tried to laugh it off, "I was just thinking."

The young woman, who couldn't be older than fifteen, crossed her frail arms. "You shouldn't lie, mister." Her lips pouted and her brows knitted. 

Elijah's smile faltered. "A few lies can't hurt."

"Yes they can, mister. Especially if you're lying to yourself."

Elijah eyed the girl again. It really was a shame she would never be able to do anything more in her lifetime. "Then what should I do about myself being sad?" Elijah challenged.

"I always pray when I feel sad." Elijah's face fell. Now he did feel bad for this girl. He knew no one was listening, not anymore at least. Angels were a dying breed who had forgotten their purpose a long time ago.

"I don't really _pray,_ " Elijah stated with an awkward smile. When he'd first fled Heaven, he'd cut everything that tied his grace to Heaven, Angel-Radio included. It was also the reason he needed the souls; his grace couldn't rejuvenate itself so he opted for the next best thing: pieces of Heaven. He didn't pray either as it was a direct link into Heaven, but on occasion he'd find himself calling out to his father.

"It's alright," the girl reached over and held both his hands in her own tiny, bony ones, "We can do it together."

Elijah looked at their hands and weighed it over. No one would be listening and even if they were, Heaven had deemed him too dangerous.

Elijah nodded and the girl's eyes closed, Elijah's following suit.

"Dear Heavenly Father," she began, "This man is sad. I don't know why he is sad, though, for he is alive. He can walk and talk and do anything he could dream of. I don't understand why he does not see as I do, for I see and feel happiness everywhere I go. I see it in the clouds and feel it when the sun warms my skin. Father, maybe you could help to show this man as you have shown me the happiness that exists everywhere in this world?" She paused. "Amen."

"Amen," Elijah echoed quietly, retracting his hands and slowly opening his eyes.

"Do you feel better, mister?" Elijah smiled at the girls question.

"I think I do," he said. What she had said had reminded him that he understood something all Angels had, but most had been unable to comprehend: free will. He could walk anywhere and do anything, do more than anything he'd ever done in Heaven. He had more chance to fufil dreams than most humans have in a lifetime.

But it was the little girl who had showed him that, not a sign from his father or even another Angel, simply a dying girl.

"Dorothy!" A woman called out and the girl turned her head to see a graying lady rushing towards them. "Where have you been?" She demanded, voice rising. Elijah sat stiffly in his seat till the woman noticed him. "I am so sorry!" She exclaimed, hands going to her chest. "My daughter likes to wander," she explained with a smile, her daughter pouting in the wheel chair

"Oh, it's fine," Elijah returned the smile, "She's a wonderful girl; you're very fortunate to have her." The woman nodded, but Elijah could see that his statement had brought up unpleasant memories. He speculated they had to do with the fact that she wouldn't have her daughter much longer from what he could sense.

Elijah stood and the girl rolled herself back in the wheel chair, her mother taking control of it soon after. "I'll tell you what," Elijah started with a smile and tired eyes, "Since you helped me, I'll help you." Elijah closed his eyes and pressed his palm to the girls forehead, his grace flowing from him to her.

His brows furrowed as he healed her of her ailment, one so extensive his grace strained to find and heal each part. It washed over her whole being and brought memories she'd never remembered and even memories she was yet to have. For her, it felt like the warmth of a fireplace on a cold winter's night seeping through a blanket as you cuddle with a loved one. She could almost _see_ the grace dancing behind her eyelids like the the gentle glowing flames of the fireplace.

Elijah let his hand fall away once he was done, his breathing ragged since such a task was an immense exertion for his already drained grace since he'd used it in the compound.

He saw that girl's mother's eyes were wide when he finally parted his own to look at her, and the girl was in a similar state to her mother.

"What did you-" The woman began but stopped when she saw her daughter stand.

"Thank you," Elijah breathed out with a nod, the woman holding her daughter and tears pricking at her eyes. The girl watched him, wonder and even understanding in her eyes.

Elijah teleported himself away, though not far since he knew his grace wouldn't hold for more than a few blocks. He found himself in the shadow of a building, the ground icy and the walls cold. He leaned against one and tried to get his breathing under control, his eyes barely able to stay open and his legs nearly unable to support him as he searched through his coat for the vial that held the soul he'd carry with him in case of emergencies like this.

He downed the soul, eyes glowing blue like usual, and he soon began to gain control of his limbs and breathing. He slid down the wall and leaned his head back against it, eyes still closed. The rapid rising of his chest soon slowing down as the sun rapidly sunk lower in the sky.

He stayed there, mind blank as he stared at the darkening sky. He could hear the sounds of the city and the flap of pigeon's wings as they flew overhead. He relished in the simplicity of the city and just _being_. He began to think again of what he'd seen in the girl's mind and how healing her had felt right.

Helping had always felt right. It felt like what he had been meant to do as an Angel, and really, it had been. When still with Heaven, he'd been created as a Guardian Angel, but when the Archangels saw this capabilities he'd been dragged away from his duties before he could even start them.

He'd never been able to actually help humans until he'd fled Heaven, and even after that it took him centuries to figure out what he wanted to do. Did he want to help? Did he want to take revenge on his father by hurting his creations?

Elijah had done both, though it took him longer than it should have to see that revenge brought him no gain simply because his father didn't care. That was a devastating revelation for him to come to terms with, and in truth, he still hadn't.

Elijah stayed against the wall, drifting from thought to thought as he waited for nine to roll around. He hoped the night's miracle wouldn't leave him as the one in the park had him, but he couldn't be sure. It would be as extensive as the one in the park, but then again he hadn't been at full power.

Elijah decided that since he wouldn't be going far, he'd just stay where he was and let his vessel rest.

When it was finally nine, Elijah pushed himself to his feet with a groan and dusted himself off. He pulled the folded paper from his coat and reread the information to make sure he knew where he needed to go and what he was doing.

He teleported himself to the darkened hospital room of a young girl about the age of eleven, balloons, cards, flowers, and gifts surrounding her bed. Her mother sat in a chair, slumped over and asleep. She'd become a witch after the doctors told her there was nothing they could do to save her daughter, but even after practicing and asking others week after week there was nothing. Not a single spell or a person who could help her without her giving up her soul, which Elijah was glad he'd been able to get to her before such a thing happened.

Elijah quietly padded over to the side of her bed and placed a palm to her forehead, eyes closing as he began to heal the sleeping child. It took a minute or so, but he soon finished, his breathing was heavier than usual, but not by much.

The girl sat up slowly, and her mother stirred. 

"Mom?" the girl croaked out and her mother's eyes widened in disbelief. She was encompassing her daughter in her arms and rocking back and forth, whispering quietly to her in a blink of an eye. Elijah smiled at the reunion.

The woman pulled back and looked directly at Elijah. "Are you the Angel Elijah? The one that does the miracles?" She questioned.

Elijah nodded, not sure where she was going, though he hoped it would be a simple thank you and nothing more.

 _"Thank you,"_  she whispered, burrowing her nose into he daughter's hair, "You brought back my baby girl. You're a true Angel, and I'm sure the Lord is proud of what your doing." Elijah's face fell as the woman closed her eyes and went back to peppering her daughter in kisses.

"Proud of me," Elijah echoed the words in a murmur, a foreign thought when it came to his father. Elijah left without another word, unable to understand if he really was supposed to be doing what he doing.

He was helping what Heaven calls abominations and sinners. Creature and people who'd never be welcomed into the gates of Heaven, but then again, maybe that's why he wanted to help them. Because they had something in common: they could never go to Heaven, even if they wanted to with all their fiber of their being. They were destined for Hell or Purgatory, or in Elijah's sense, a life where not only did those he bonded with die, but he never knew what he was meant to do.

"Elijah-" Richard started when he saw that he was home, but Elijah had already picked up his mirror and was moving it to the bathroom: the closest room with the door open. He shut the door and pulled a jar full of a red mixture out of the air.

He could hear Richard speaking, yelling even, but he drowned it out. He didn't want to talk anymore. He was done with every conversation making him think of Heaven or people he'd lost. He was going to spend Christmas alone and doing what he did every year: wondering what his existence meant.

Elijah chanted softly in a language he hadn't heard in a long time and drew a sigil on the door to keep sound from coming into the bathroom and coming out. When sigil was complete he screwed the top back on and with a flick of his wrist, it was gone.

He let out a shuddered breath as he braced his hands against the island's counter top. Elijah rocked a bit, weighing over ways he could distract himself.

He stopped rocking when the thought of calling Vincent crossed his mind. He pulled his phone out and started rapidly dialing his number as he began pacing. It rang and it rang and rang until it stopped and for a split second Elijah thought Vincent had picked up, but it was just the voice-mail.

"You've reached the voicemail of Vincent Torvus. I can't get to my phone right now, but you can leave a message after the beep." The beep sounded and Elijah fumbled over his words, his pacing ceasing.

"Hey, Vincent. It's... It's Elijah." Elijah stopped and canceled the message. He couldn't do this. Vincent didn't deserve him moaning about how he was sad or lonely. Vincent deserved to be happy. What happened to not wanting to talk to anyone?

Elijah powered off his phone. He'd made it through Christmas alone plenty of times, what made this year so different?

He put his phone on the island and went to pour himself a drink. Maybe he felt like this because he was sober.

Yeah, that was it. It was because he was sober.

He poured the drink and let his front collapse onto the island, his drink in hand, but he was still standing.

"Angels aren't supposed to feel," he muttered into his arms before lifting his head to drink. "Why do we feel? Why did you give us free will? Were you just that stupid enough to make your soldiers able to think for themselves?" Elijah questioned out loud, his fury growing, bubbling and toiling like a boiling pot of water.

"Look at what it did to Heaven!" Elijah yelled, slamming his hands onto the counter, his drink splashing. He was back in the same position where he was braced against the counter top, head hung and his broken breathing echoing through the silent room.

Free will had resulted in the slaughter of so many Angels. It had lead Angel's away from their true purpose and Elijah could never understand why they had. He'd found their purpose beautiful. In Heaven, the only thing he'd wanted to do was protect his father's creations and he'd been lead to believe the best way he could do that was to help Heaven win wars.

And then Heaven said he wasn't doing it right. He was doing it wrong and he couldn't understand. They wanted him to win wars. They told him to win, yet when they found out he'd send troops upon troops to their death for the sake of a war, there was outrage.

All he'd been told to do was win.

"What was I meant to do, Father?"

Elijah asked the question to the world, hoping with everything he had that someone would answer him, maybe even his father. He needed an answer. He needed an answer to the question he'd been asking himself year after year.

He might has well been asking the question to an empty room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's a wrap on day four. And I'm sad bc E is sad. Man I hope the this isn't weird when i do a read through.
> 
> After Read Through Thoughts:  
> Not as sad as when I was writing it (takes a lot longer to write than to read so you'll spend an hour living through a scene and writing it, but when you read it you only spend a few minutes there), but If it made me sad while writing, hopefully you'l feel sad too. Idk. Felt rly jumbled to me. Welp, this was about 3000 words so that's a lot shorter than last part, but it was more of an ending and a way to be able to shove us into day five, where I can fully let out the angst monsters since I found myself holding a lot back this part. This was just supposed to be set up for Day Five which I'm really hoping is going to be a one part thing instead of broken up like this.


	18. Holiday Special-Day Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's hope this fucking this doesn't take more than one part. I don't think it will since I don't have much planned for this and I can't write angst to save my life so... Idk. Knowing me and my predictions for how long something will be, I'm wrong with my predictions. See you on the other side (I almost typed 'yall.' That's how southern I am. I have to consciously not type yall and make sure I haven't used brang or brung instead of brought.)

Day Five, December 25th:

It had been Christmas Day for three hours and Elijah could barely stand.

He was slumped in a corner of the kitchen, tremendous amounts of alcohol in his system and empty bottles littered the floor around him. He watched the silent room with half-lidded eyes and let his head stay resting against the wall as he tightened his loose grip on the near empty bottle in his hand.

His eyes slid from the red sigil to the bottle in his hand before he raised it to his lips with a sigh and finished it off. He dropped the bottle to the floor with a small clink and let it roll away, remnant drops of the drink that was once in the bottle still sticking to the inner sides of the glass.

Elijah knew he didn't need to drink more. He knew it made even the most level headed people make bad decisions, but he found himself not caring.

Elijah dragged himself to his feet with a groan and used the wall to steady himself. His head fell against the wall as he regained his balance and his eyes drooped closed. They opened again, but he struggle to keep them focused as he staggered towards the liquor cabinet using the wall as his guide.

His hand glided over the bathroom door and his hand gripped the door frame of the bedroom's entrance-way as he kept walking, if you could even call it that, towards where the liquor was kept.

He didn't end up there.

No, Elijah found himself leaning heavily against the door to the backroom, eyes focusing just enough to see the knob. He reached for it with lead-heavy hands, but his fingers faltered as he grew nearer.

His eyes closed again as he deliberated the decision.

Corners of his mouth turned down and his brows pulled together to create a pained expression, he turned the knob and fell into the room, the door ceasing to hold his weight.

Elijah stumbled and used one of the many metal shelves to right himself and keep from crashing to the ground. He shook his head in a desperate attempt to see things clearer as he fumbled with the light switch to turn on the overhead lights.

The lights came on with a buzz and bathed the room in a pale florescent light. Elijah winced at the sudden change, but was shuffling his way through the small corridors created by the shelves and the odd filing cabinets that were present here and there.

Books, leather bound journals from hunters past, and odd boxes with writing and symbols and locks littered the different shelves. Most were things that he had found and thought could be useful while others held sentimental value to him like the dust covered violin that hadn't moved in centuries or the silver plated sword in a simple black scabbard accompanied by what could have been a piece of sail. 

His uneven footfalls echoed through the quiet room, the only other sounds the buzz of the lights and his quiet but uneven breathing as he continued past the items. He soon came to the last line of shelves and turned left to walk down a corridor created by the shelves and the cement wall.

Elijah stopped in front of a worn, dark stained oak box. It was longer than it was wide, the length of it about equal to that of Elijah's forearm.

Elijah used the shelf to steady himself as he examined the box with tired eyes. Finally, he flipped the latch that kept the scarcely decorated box closed and opened it, revealing the mirror-like metal of an angel-blade.

His angel-blade.

The angel-blade he'd had when was first created as a Guardian Angel and when he the higher-ups had seen his talents with winning wars. His when the Angels began to resent him. The angel-blade that had been taken from him when he was imprisoned.

The blade he'd retrieved from Heaven before his escape.

An Angel's angel-blade was forged with a piece of their grace. It's what made the blades so powerful; they had the magic of an Angel within them.

Elijah picked up the blade and turned it over in his hands, the metal catching in the light and his eyes reflecting dubiously in the metal.

Elijah had always saw it fitting that an Angel could die by their own grace, and he'd always wished it was how he would go. Killed by his own grace, the one thing that kept him alive also the thing that was to kill him.

Elijah held the blade loosely in his hand as he closed the box and began the trek out of the backroom, soon back into the kitchen with the lights of the backroom off and the door clicking closed behind him.

"What's the end-game, dead-beat?" Elijah declared quietly to the empty room as he grabbed another bottle from the cabinet. It was the wine Crowley had left, and while he wasn't the biggest fan of wine, it was the closest bottle and Elijah couldn't be bothered to put in the extra effort to find something he'd actually like to drink. Elijah sighed.

He just needed something to keep him busy.

Elijah placed the angel-blade on the counter of the island as he uncorked the bottle of wine. The cork came out with a pop and he was almost immediately lifting the bottle to his lips to drink. He set the bottle down, leaning against the island with his eyes closed.

"What? No answer?" His voice was sour and the slur was heavy. Elijah took another swig from the bottle before grabbing the angel-blade and lumbering back to the corner he'd been in before going to the backroom. He collapsed to the ground and let the angel-blade clatter on the tile floor.

"Guess not, you irresponsible bastard."

Elijah spent the next hours drinking more than he should ever drink and calling out insults and questions to his father. Elijah was talking to an empty room and he knew it, but really, he didn't care.

Elijah took another short sip from the bottle in his hand where was still slumped and kicked the angel-blade with the side of his foot.

_"'Delight thyself also in the Lord; and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart ,'"_ Elijah recited into the empty air. "I tried," he slurred out, "I tried so damn hard to do what you wanted me to and it wasn't good enough. And then when I needed you the most, when I was experiencing things worse than death, things I would never wish upon another, you..." Elijah's voice broke. "I called out to you and you didn't do anything."

Elijah looked to the bottle in his hand. "I still don't know what I did wrong," he whispered.

Elijah placed the half-empty bottle on the ground and shifted his position so he was sitting cross legged. He grabbed his angel-blade and held it in his hands.

"Is it because I'm not trying hard enough?" Elijah let the angel-blade drop into his lap and buried his face into his hands. "I don't know what more there is for me to do," the murmur left Elijah's lips and he could feel his vessel's eyes starting to wet.

He rubbed his eyes vigorously, causing them to get red. He didn't want to cry over his father. His father didn't deserve his tears.

_"I need a purpose,"_ Elijah whimpered into his hands as he pressed them harder into his eyes.

Elijah let his hands fall from his face and into his lap. Elijah finished off the nearest bottle to him and held it in his lap and examined the label as a distraction. The anger began to start bubbling low in him again.

"If I'm not meant for Heaven then what am I meant for?" His grip on the bottle grew tighter.

_"Give me a sign you piece of shit!"_ Elijah punctuated his declaration by throwing the empty bottle at the side of the island.

It broke with a crash and it sent glass flying across the room. Elijah put his face back into his hands before running them through his hair, breathing uneven and his anger receding again to show the broken and vulnerable Angel he is. His eyes were closed tight and he began to rock undetectably with his hands fisting into his hair.

It was then that the door to the apartment was flung open.

Elijah whipped his head up to see Vincent clad in his leather jacket along with a new, grey knitted scarf and matching hat surveying the room with wide eyes before they landed on Elijah.

Elijah was on his feet and embracing Vincent within seconds.

Vincent let out a quiet _oof_ and let his duffel drop to the ground.

"You okay..." Vincent asked, but Elijah's only answer was to tighten his grip around Vincent and burying his face deeper into his shoulder. Vincent's arms crept around Elijah and returned the embrace, hand patting his back. _"It's alright,"_  Vincent said, trying to figure out how he could help to comfort Elijah, but just letting him hug him seemed to be doing fine now.

"You're not supposed to be back for two more days," Elijah spoke softly into the fabric of Vincent's jacket.

"I missed your call and you wouldn't pick back up. I thought something had happened to you so I got on the next flight back here."

"I was fine." Elijah still hadn't let go of Vincent.

_"Really?"_ Vincent asked, skepticism lacing his voice.

_"Shut up,"_ Elijah said halfheartedly, still not letting go of Vincent. "What's with the hat and scarf?" Elijah was beginning to rein in his emotions, Vincent's presence soothing him, but for some reason the feeling that had been chewing in his gut since he Christmas Eve morning didn't disappear like he thought it would when Vincent was back.

"My Grandma likes to knit. A lot. I have extras if you want." A low chuckle rumbled through Elijah's chest.

"It was pretty cold without you." Vincent scoffed at this, but Elijah could tell he was just playing along. It brought a smile to his face.

"So, are we gonna stand here hugging forever?" Vincent asked with his arms still around Elijah.

"I actually can't stand without help I'm so drunk."

Vincent busted out laughing and maneuvered Elijah so he was hanging off his shoulder, Elijah joining in on the laughing too as his head lolled to rest on Vincent's shoulder.

"Let's get you somewhere away from liquor and things you could hurt yourself with," Vincent mused as he help Elijah to the bed. He'd missed the doof and was more than worried when he couldn't get a hold of him, and looking at the kitchen which was littered in broken glass and empty bottles along with the angel-blade on the floor, he was glad he'd come back so soon.

Vincent sat Elijah down on the bed and surveyed him, his rumpled, white dress shirt and wrinkled slacks while also noting that his red tie was no longer around his neck. His hair stuck up in all directions and his eyes were red and when he'd first seen him on the floor of he apartment, they'd been glassy.

But it wasn't just Elijah's appearance that was off, his scent was off too.

His normal sugar-water scent was covered with alcohol to the point where you could barely detect it, but underneath it all, there was a scent he couldn't place. Something...

_Some one?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dun dun dun lol
> 
> That ending was cheesing and I have a feeling that this whole thing was a piece of shit, but at least I'm done writing the holiday special even though _it's fucking March._ God, I have no fucking idea how to write angst. Man, it feels really weird to only write just under 2000 words. Sorry this is so short, but the prologue for the next chap should be out next Sunday, Monday, or Tuesday. Also, sorry this was so late. Welp, idk when v's gonna figure out Isaiah and E slept together, but it'll happen. Eventually. V'll probably be jealous and then he'll go "What the fuck. Why am I jealous he's just my friend I shouldn't be grumpy that he slept with some one he can do whatever he wants *awkwardly tries to justify to himself why he feels jealous*"  
>  Ye  
> also, idk if i've ever talked abt it before , but has anyone figured out the emotion e started feeling after he slept with Isaiah?  
> Welp, it's read through time.
> 
> Did me read through in a full conscience state so hopefully I didn't miss anything.  
> Only other thing I have is a little bonus thing. Btw, for the bonus, E's thoughts are in italics.
> 
>  
> 
> Bonus:
> 
> "Elijah?" Vincent called from the bathroom to where Elijah was lying on the bed, concern present in his voice.
> 
> Elijah stirred. "What? Yeah?" He'd been drifting off, but he didn't wouldn't to admit to it. And he didn't want to fall asleep since it never left him feeling nice. He didn't need that on top of the hangover.
> 
> "Why is there a talking mirror in the bathroom?"
> 
> _"Shit." ___


	19. happi dey (april fools and written in under an hour)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive me.

the dey waz a dey

the dey

a dey uf wonder

it started the eys as normal, vincent shower for half of mornign before lure out with foob

he eat

elijah happi

elijh like to make vincent happi

but he like only friend

yes

only friend

nothing more

elijah dodes not think of vincnt leik that

even when he kissd guy

and thot imediatly of  vnetenct

"feather-boi"

"yes beau- i mean dog breth"

"wat"

"i sed somebody iz the deds an nicolsosnoenoer wants help"

"please god let it not be complete stink"

"dont bring my father into this"

elijah felt the angerrererrr because of this

his father was shit

shit fatherrrrerer

father reerrere of the shit

"tuchy"

 _"i could touch you-"_ eligah stop the thinks becaus vicent is only friend

elijah dose not want to do the gay things with him

he at lest tell himselves the that

"redy to go?" vincn axe as hen donnnnnn the leathr jacket of coolness and swag and how od they get the goul smell out of the leather jacket when they couldnt get it out of the other cloths

because it was jaket of swag and kewl

"ye" _"ready to go out on a date-"_  freinds donut go on dates

no

frends hang otu

and eligay is only frend with vincentetntntn

elija teleported them to the crim scene

vinecent dose the sniffa snif

it a kewl snif

bc he is kewl

with swag jacuet

"it dose not smell like anthing other than mistakeses and humans"

"wat do mistakes smell liek"

"you"

venencent walked a way

elij thot thayt was mean

"eligay- i mean elijah and vencent! ur here! " nicolsonwas wearing gloves and jogged over to them

he looked happi for someone at crim scene

 _"suspicion"_ elijah had the thot

"any idea you two?"

"drugs" vinecet said doing sneeze

"wat" the elijah and nicolsonnon says together

"drugs" vinecent said louder

"wat" ellie and nickol-boi said to gether again

"DRUGS"

"stop yelling we heard fist time"

"then why axe"

"axe wat"

"about what i sed"

"watdid you say?"

"drugs"

"wat"

"drugs"

"wat"

"fuck this"

"wait whatkind of drugs" ellllllli axe

vinneye snif

"alot of cocain. sum heroin sumwhere. and meth in that vent."

nikcoulson said for someone to cheque the vent

therre was meth

vinkent was smug

but not two sumg

cool smug

bc he is kewl

cool cat

dog

dog person

cool shape shifting dog person

he didnt go to collage

"any supper naturals?" eliha axe

"no"

"can we use vincentntntntn as a drug sniffing dog? our dogs would tuk awhale to get here"

elijah said yes

vinec said no

vinecet eventual did work of drug sniff dog as dog

the cocain probably was the mostest fun to find wiht nose

they eventua l got home and vinecet was no longe high off drug snif

eligay hug vinect

"why you hug me"

_"tell him youthink of being a couple while you watch him slep"_

"cool dude-bros hug and we are bros"

"sure bro"

and they hug and it was gud day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  I am so fucking sorry. Everyone's out of character and it's one on the morning and it's April first and the prologue to chapter two might be out this week because I'm on break, but I'm having a lot of trouble writing it. Again, I am sorry for this shit. And don't regard any of this as actual happening. Mostly Elijah's thoughts abt Vincent. (Okay maybe youcan regard those as things he's actually thought. If it makes you happy. I wish I had Elijah slap Vincent's but. That would have been more satisfying, but then again it's April first and everything's a prank.)
> 
> also:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rzbssK0pqIE


	20. Chapter Two-Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late, but I had projects and a fuck ton of tests before the break and when I finally got to the break, I was exhausted and just needed some time to myself. This is the third plot draft (wasn't sure which way was more coherent and got the point across like I wanted to).
> 
> Just finished. I am so sorry this is barely 600 words.

Memories rattled endlessly within the mind of the over-stuffed shell of a man. The rattling was loud and horrid, the sounds of voices and ocean breezes and war, memories he'd never had before yet could remember. They weren't his, yet he'd look at an object and thousands of different memories he shouldn't have would crash through his mind with immeasurable noise, whispers and screams of men and women alike each telling him what the object was.

It hurt.

The memories shrouded his vision, flashes of dark and light blinking in and out in quick milliseconds as the drowning sounds grew louder.

Everything hurt.

A new pain, not one of a horrible migraine filtered through the calamity. He was... Hitting his head against a brick wall?

_Stop._

Memories of the word and the feeling behind it ground through his skull, louder than the usual din that he was still no where near okay with. The memories quieted again, letting him catch his breath, blind to the world which was the present with the memories clattering distractedly. He felt something warm trickle down his forehead.

_Blood._

Memories of this were louder, some saying words like _war_ while others were accompanied by simple screaming or sobbing or just silence. Ringing silence. Memories of silence felt like screwdrivers twisting through his skull and ears.

He slumped to the cold ground, new memories reminding him of what it all meant replacing those of blood. These were simpler, but in greater number. More brightly colored. It felt like strobe lights blinking inches away from his face as the memories all flooded through at once.

"Sir?"

_Sir._

More. Others came through with the words _who_ and _woman._ Through it all he saw the visage of a blonde woman coming towards him, but she was soon covered by sights of other blonde women sleeping or walking or smiling or dying. The words accompanied them and the short monologues within the memories melted together into a horrid grating sound.

More words. _Hell. Help. No. Stop. Hurt._

"Are you alright?"

Memories stitched themselves into the sentence, showing him meaning as others began to form the response.

They screamed through his entire being, cutting and ripping every never ending as they moved. _Yes. No. Help._

Everything was a horrible quilt of memories of thousands of other lives that shouldn't reside in one man's mind. This was wrong and it was going to rip him apart from the inside out to fix itself.

The woman moved closer from what he could make out since the world which he had deemed as the real one covered almost completely by memory after memory.

He felt something in his hand and a single memory rang out within his mind before the others followed.

_Scythe._

It was strange how he only had one memory that was able to recognize what was in his hand, but he soon realized that his body was moving on it's own. He was trapped within his own mind or a mind locked with the memories of others.

The non-bladed end of the scythe touched the center of the woman's chest and new memories crashed into his mind.

Her birth, her childhood, every feeling, every word she'd said, every place she'd ever seen and it was all taking up residence in this broken man's shared space of a brain.

The last memory came slower than the rest. A shivering man in the corner of a darkened alleyway standing brokenly and suddenly touching the end of a wooden rod to her chest. The feelings behind it were that of fear as he heard he inner monologue.

One word broke through the quiet once the woman's last memory ended: _Purpose._

The other memories swam through his skull and tried to make sense of what it meant, throwing themselves to the front of his mind as a half-assed explanation. Somehow, without the help of the thousands of memories, he knew what it meant.

He needed to collect more memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really hope this doesn't read weird when I do a read through. Man, I could have had this done weeks ago, but then again I didn't really have this idea. I think I like this a lot better than the other versions of this I had before. I think it'll let me keep some secrets and do the foreshadowing/clues better since I know exactly what the character would do (the other beginnings focused a lot on the character before all this shit). Welp, off to do the read through. Hopefully part one of this chapter will be out within the week.
> 
> Done with the read through. Kinda weird. Don't worry though, we'll be getting back to Vincent and Elijah in the next update and they'll be playing a drinking game, so hopefully that will make up for everything I've done. I'm sorry.
> 
> Also, they'll be playing Never Have I Ever, so if you've got an suggestions for question, please comment them or message them to me. I'd love to see them.
> 
> I really want to go to sleep now.


	21. Chapter Two-Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> drinking game time fam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We fucking made it here fam. Fucking made it. Vincent and Elijah, together again in an actual chapter. Who woulda thunk it.
> 
> (a/n: so it turns out i dont know how to write drunk people and this pretty much ended up being vincent and elijah doing stupid shit together and not being able to walk very well.)
> 
> Also, when I finished writing this, I told myself I was going to save it and post it sunday night, but I kind of want to move my update day to Thursday. Idk, school work has let up a bunch because we're only reviewing for our end of course testing (which reminds me, I wont be writing for two weeks after next week so I can fully focus on my tests. I might be able to write some stuff in advance so I can keep updating, but we all know that's not going to happen.) so they're hasn't been much pressure to do things. Ye.

It was early Gebruary, five weeks since Vincent had returned to Manhattan after visiting his family in Michigan and nine weeks since the incident with the rogue ghouls. The female had been put into an integration family of volunteer ghouls and was going to a support group once a week to deal with the changes. She was doing fine, even moving on from grieving over her brother, though Elijah could tell she was bit sour over his death. The support group meetings were helping with the feelings.

Vincent had been worried about Elijah after coming home to him surrounded by broken glass and empty bottles, but after the hangover (something Elijah refused to get rid of with Angel mojo) he returned to his regular self. Even if he seemed normal, Vincent was worried. That, and he hadn't been able to figure out the stale scent that had been on Elijah when he'd returned, but he'd shrugged it off and pushed it to the back of his mind. Elijah was allowed to have a private life. Vincent didn't need to be poking around in what he did when he was alone and frankly, sometimes he didn't want to know what the Angel got up to in his free time.

It was the late morning and Vincent was alone in the apartment, multiple blankets wrapped around him as he sat in front of his laptop at the kitchen island. They really need a couch. Vincent readjusted the blankets around the fuzzy pajamas he'd changed back into upon returning to the apartment after Elijah had dragged him out of the bed at the ungodly hour of 5:00 AM. Elijah had been itching for something to do for weeks and when Nicolson called with a strange death, Elijah didn't care how early it was. Or cold.

It was very cold every where still. Especially the apartment, which was why Vincent was wrapped in nearly every blanket in the home. Elijah hid the thermostat from him after the heating bill was nearly 100 dollars more than normal.

The front door creaked open, a cold wind tussling Vincent's hair and causing him to recede deeper into the mountain of blankets. Vincent couldn't see Elijah yet, but he could here the sounds of plastic bags rustling and he rolled his eyes.

Elijah had left to organize patrols and place them in high risk areas to watch for what ever had caused the death (neither had been able to figure out what it was). He shouldn't have returned with anything but himself.

"I'm back!" Elijah called out cheerfully, the bags backing more noise as he slid his shoes off. Richard made a noise next to Vincent. Vincent still wasn't used to the "Magic Mirror".

Vincent pulled his ear-buds from his ears and slid his simple, black reading glasses so they sat atop his head.

"What did you bring back?" Vincent asked, rubbing his hands over his face. He was still tired from the morning.

"Liquor!" Elijah stepped into the kitchen, holding the plastic bags with paper bags within them above his head.

Vincent rolled his eyes. "Really?"

"Well, I thought we could use some more." Vincent gave Elijah a dead look as he set the bags onto the island.

"We have plenty. You bought more last week."

Elijah shrugged, pulling the bottles from the bag. "I thought we should maybe clean out the cabinet."

"You cleaned us out at Christmas." Elijah faltered with his pulling of the bottles from their bags. Vincent sighed and pushed his laptop screen down, not enough to close it, but enough to show Elijah had his full attention.

"I thought this time, instead of crying and drinking our feelings away, we could play a game!" Elijah answered in his normal sarcastic and playful voice.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really," Elijah answered, pulling some of the bottles from the liquor cabinet and setting them on the island next to the new bottles before pulling out two shot glasses. "But I do have a drinking game where we can both reveal our darkest and most embarrassing secrets to each other." Vincent narrowed his eyes and closed his laptop fully. 

"What?" Elijah questioned once he noticed Vincent's stare.

"Nothing," Vincent shook his head a relinquished the stare, "What game is it you want to play?"

"Never Have I Ever," Elijah answered with a smile, filling two shot glasses, "You say 'Never have I ever,' and then something you've never done before. If the other person has done that thing, they take a shot. First one to get shit-faced loses."

"Dude," Vincent said, some of the blankets dropping from his shoulders, "You're gonna win with those rules. It takes _a lot_ to get you drunk."

Elijah chuckled, "But that's under the circumstances that you, a twenty-three year old, has done more than something that's been around since before creation." Vincent rolled his eyes. "Hey, don't roll your eyes at me, young man," Elijah said, putting on a mock 'mom-voice.'

"If I respond by rolling my eyes, will you smite me for real?" Vincent teased, pulling his reading glasses from his forehead and placing them onto his laptop. Elijah grumbled in response, settling into the stool next to Vincent. He slid a shot over to Vincent. Vincent gave the darkly colored whiskey a sniff, his face scrunching up at the smell.

Vincent coughed, hiding his nose in his sleeve, eyes watering slightly. "Is that _The Whiskey?"_

"Yes."

"God, you're a fucking psychopath," Vincent rubbed his eyes, pushing the shot a bit farther away from him. A few more blankets fell to the floor and Elijah glared at them as they fell to the floor.

"You shouldn't swear," Elijah stated as he scooped the blankets off the floor and pulled the last one off Vincent's shoulders, ignoring the protests from the brunet.

Vincent huffed. "And who told you that?" He asked in reference to Elijah's statement about swearing.

Elijah stood still, stare occupied with the floor as he held the numerous blankets in his arms on the way into the bedroom. "Somebody I met a long time ago..."

This earned Elijah a stare from Vincent. He was looking off into the distance for Christ's sake. "And who told them that?" Vincent crossed his arms, eyes darting up and down Elijah's still figure.

"I dunno, I just looked up to them at the time." Elijah shook his head clear of the memories and continued into the bedroom to place the blankets onto the bed so he could deal with them later.

"Why?"

"I was looking up to them because they were above me and threatening to roll a canon ball onto me, OK?" Vincent snickered quietly, but quickly tried to quiet himself as Elijah stalked back into the room, past Richard who had passed out.

Vincent's attempts at keeping his laughter within him did not work.

"Let's just play the drinking game so I can try and embarrass you," Elijah sat down heavily into the stool next to Vincent, his ego bruised. Vincent smirked.

Elijah glared.

"I'll go first," his dejected expression morphed into one that struck fear into Vincent, "Never have I ever..." Elijah looked about the room, clearly at a loss for what he had never done. "Kissed a sheep."

Vincent's face fell even more and he drug a hand over his face as he eyed the shot glass.

"Wait," Elijah had a small chuckle in his voice, "You've kissed a sheep?"

"I was six and my older sister said she wouldn't let me back inside if I didn't." Vincent's voice was filled with dread as he raised the glass to his lips.

"I like your sister," Elijah had a shit eating grin plastered over his face as Vincent downed the shot. His face contorted in ways Elijah didn't know were possible.

 _"You're awful,"_ Vincent gritted out, shaking his head spasmodically with the taste of The Whiskey still on his tongue.

Elijah placed an elbow into the island and leaned against his hand, "You talking to me or The Whiskey?" This earned him quite the glare.

When Vincent was finally ready, he began his turn with a thirst for revenge in his eyes. "Never have I ever... Stripped for money."

Elijah shrugged and downed the shot, having a similar reaction as Vincent's, but more watered down. Vincent looked at him, jaw slack.

"I mean, it seemed like something you'd do, but really?" Vincent leaned forward in the stool a bit. Elijah nodded, not a bit of regret on his face. "Did you actually get any money? You don't look like you can dance." Vincent was lying to himself and Elijah. Elijah _definitely_ looked like he could dance, but Vincent needed to get a jab in.

 _"Oh, I got quite a bit more than just money,"_ Elijah purred. Vincent wrinkled his nose and looked to the floor, seemingly amusing his mind with the thought.

No.

He did not want to have those thoughts in his head.

"It's the first round, how did you make it weird already."

Elijah shrugged, filling their glasses again with The Whiskey, much to Vincent's dismay, "You're the one who brought up stripping." Vincent huffed. Elijah smiled and began his statement.

"Never have I ever... Been given flowers." Vincent wasn't sure what he was more sad about it: the fact that Elijah had never been given flowers or that he would have to take another shot.

He finished his shot and handled better than the first time, but not by much. "That's actually really sad."

Elijah gave a curt nod as he refilled Vincent's glass. "Guess it gives me a reason to stay immortal for a little longer." Vincent nodded quietly in agreement, but his brows knitted together when the sentence set the gears in his mind churning. _A little longer?_

Vincent cleared his throat and readjusted himself in the stool. "Never have I ever... Been to England." Elijah took another shot, but Vincent was expecting it. He'd been on Earth for a while, of course he's been to England.

"How come? It's a beautiful country," Elijah filled his own glass again, glancing to Vincent as he did so.

"Genocide maniacs with crazy weapons sealed the country sometime around 1965," Vincent commented offhandedly. He'd told his parents he wanted to go when he was young, only to find that it would be way too dangerous.

 "I could always take you." Elijah screwed to top back onto The Whiskey and placed it back onto the island.

"Really?"

"I'm an Angel, I'm sure I could at least protect you from those goons for a day. First sign of trouble and I can teleport us home." Elijah gave Vincent a toothy grin, Vincent returning the smile with his own of disbelief.

"I might actually take you up on that sometime."

Their game went on and they were able to finish off The Whiskey, a horrible whiskey that had been in the cabinet for god knows how long. Vincent had only made the mistake of drinking it once before this drinking game.

As of now, they had finished a little more than a few bottles. Elijah taking a shot nearly every time it was Vincent's turn and Vincent only drank maybe every third turn.

When statements were getting harder and harder to come up with (part due to the fact that they'd been playing for a few hours and in part to the fact that _they'd had been playing a drinking game for past few hours),_ Vincent pulled up a random Never Have I Ever question generator site.

Vincent hummed quietly as he fixed a few things in his browser, "Here we go. 'Never have I ever spent the night in jail.'" Vincent gave Elijah the side eye.

"Teleportation," Elijah said flatly.

Vincent sighed. "I was about to say that it looks like we're both making good choices, but with that comment in mind, I've decided not to."

Elijah crossed his arms, "I'm making fine choices."

Vincent held up his hands in surrender, "Alright, alright..." He chuckled quietly at slightly tipsy Elijah's pout.

"Next one," Vincent began, "'Never have I ever cross-dressed.'"

Elijah took a drink, which, even though Vincent should have expected it, surprised him.

"Why?" Vincent asked. He had to know or it was going to eat him alive.

"Needed info," Elijah's  words were beginning to slur and his eyes droop. "And, I make a pretty hot girl if I do say so myself." Elijah looked pleased. Vincent was trying to imagine Elijah as a girl. Both happenings were fairly odd.

**(a/n: for some reason i have a sudden urge to break e into a million pieces. just, fucking take sledge hammer to his being and shatter him so i can see what a crudely glued together e looks like. dont worry, i dont have a place in the story i can do it so completely to him. yet.)**

Elijah's glass was quickly filled again and he urged Vincent to read the next question.

They played like this for a few more hours, Vincent reading the questions and Elijah filling the glasses when they were empty. The game had been going well, most of the small discussions they had about the questions good natured till disaster struck. **(a/n: that sounds really cheesy, but then again, this whole thing is cheesy)**

"'Never have I ever eaten out of a trash can.'" Vincent groaned, and downed another shot, Elijah watching him with a bemused look.

Elijah emptied the last of the bottle they'd been working on into Vincent's glass. "You gonna tell me why?"

Vincent massaged his temples. "The night of my twenty-first birthday my friends got me completely drunk and at some point in the night I went into dog form. Turns out it's harder to keep dog urges under control while drunk, so I ended up eating garbage. My dog form liked it. Hangover me hated myself. It was awful."

An evil grin crept across Elijah's face and once Vincent noticed, he wish he hadn't.

**(a/n: what happens next is really fucking cliche but it just kinda happened and i think you guys deserve fun shit like this since it's been taking me so long to update.)**

"Garbage Breath-" Elijah was speaking smugly till he was tackled to the ground by Vincent. Elijah groaned, his head having smacking loudly against the floor. He'd had the beginning of a headache from the immense amount of liquor, but now...

Elijah scrunched his eyes closed before speaking, a slight strain in his voice. "Did some try to shoot me or something?"

"No... I just... Tackled you because I didn't want you to call me 'Garbage Breath'?" Vincent was regretting the action before he'd even left the chair, but drunk thought process is not as good as sober thought process. "You must be really drunk if you didn't even try to counter it," Vincent commented quietly.

Elijah mumbled something about being plenty sober from where he was lying on the floor still, his eyes closed.

"You're okay, right?" Vincent was slightly worried. He'd seen the Angel brush off bullet wounds. Getting tackled to the ground didn't seem like something that would leave him so out of it.

Elijah groaned again as he started to prepare himself to get up. "Yeah," Elijah assured Vincent with forced breath as he tried to sit up, only to remind them both that in Vincent's tackling of Elijah, he'd ended up on top of the Angel.

Vincent froze like a deer in headlights, but Elijah merely gave him a drunken smile as he laid beneath Vincent, propping himself up in his elbows. "How long are you gonna lie on top of me, _Casanova?"_ Vincent gave the Angel a light shove before crawling off to sit across from Elijah on the floor. 

Elijah sat up and dropped himself over his own knees like a rag-doll.

"Well, I think I won this drinking game."

Elijah looked up at Vincent, brows pulled together. "Really?"

"Dude, you can barely keep your eyes open." Vincent was right. Elijah was dropping off every so often, lids seemingly too heavy to keep open.

"Vinney, my dear boy," Vincent wasn't sure what infuriated him more: Elijah calling him Vinney or the cheeky grin splitting across Elijah's face. "You tackled me to the ground and gave me a concussion," Elijah continued, and touched a hand to the back of his head before presenting it to Vincent so he could see the blood. "I'm even bleeding. I think you're disqualified."

The blood had Vincent shuffling himself behind Elijah so he could fuss over the damage to the back of Elijah's skull. "If me getting disqualified will get you to heal this up and get into bed, I'm all for it," Vincent stood and grabbed a nearby rag so he could deal with the immense amount of blood that was running down Elijah's back and staining his shirt.

He dabbed it onto his neck, the blood seeping into the small rag.

"That better not be one of my good rags," Elijah muttered as he began to drift from consciousness.

It was.

Vincent did not want to deal with more snarky comments from Elijah that would distract him from healing himself, so he simply reminded the Angel to do so.

"Look, Drinking Game Winner," Elijah smiled weakly at this, "Would you just heal yourself so you can pass out and rub it in my face in the morning that you don't have a hangover."

"Sure thing, _Garbage Breath._ " Vincent rolled his eyes as Elijah shifted his weight from both hands to one and reach to the back of his neck with a glowing hand. It hovered above the injury for a few seconds, growing brighter before stopping all together and leaving only the dried blood on Elijah's neck, back, shirt, and the base of his hair.

"We need to get you cleaned up before you get into bed."

"And where are you gonna sleep, Casanova," Vincent wasn't sure if he was glad or worried that Elijah was calling him Casanova instead of Garbage Breath or, you know, _his real name._

"Are you sure you healed the concussion?"

Elijah shrugged, "If not, I'll just fix the rest of it in the morning if the normal Angel healing hasn't fixed it already." Elijah went to stand, needing help from Vincent to keep from toppling to the floor.

"Damn, you're drunk. How come you didn't look this drunk when we were playing the game?" Vincent sat Elijah down in one of the still upright stools.

"We were sitting."

Vincent nodded in amused understanding. "So, can you zap yourself clean or am I gonna have to worry about you falling in the shower?" He kicked the bloodied rag that was on the floor with his foot so it was out of Elijah's line of sight. He did not want a drunk _and_ grumpy Elijah.

"I don't think I have the brain cells right now to zap myself clean," Elijah rubbed his eyes, "but then again I don't find showers all that enjoyable."

Vincent loves showers. How was it possible that he was living with someone who didn't?

"You _what?_ "

"I dunno, it was cold and my clothes got wet and I just didn't enjoy it."

Vincent opened his mouth a few times, trying to find the right words to say. "You took a cold shower... With clothes on?"

Elijah squinted at the floor. "Nicolson had the same reaction..." He noted to himself. He looked up at Vincent. "Nicolson told me to ask you to teach me how to shower."

Vincent choked on his own spit. He was very confused. "Nicolson... Said I should teach you how to shower?" He asked slowly. Elijah nodded.

This was.

Vincent did not know what to do.

Maybe teaching (God, it sounded weird when he thought about it, but then again that's probably why Nicolson shoved the job onto him) Elijah how to shower could wait till they were both completely sober?

Vincent knew if he didn't get the blood off Elijah, sober Elijah would be grumpy about the stained sheets.

"I guess I could teach you..." Vincent stated. They stood in silence for a minute or so, Vincent too out of his comfort zone to even try and take control of the situation.

"So..." Elijah was beginning to push himself off the stool, using the kitchen island as a stabalizer. Vincent rushed to his side and helped him down. Even if they both couldn't walk very well, Vincent was better at it. And Elijah's excessive bleeding had done a pretty good job at sobering him up.

His legs didn't feel very sober.

He was able to guide the swaying Elijah into the bathroom, but it didn't make him feel any better about the fact that he'd be putting this swaying Elijah in a slippery bath.

Hopefully the Angel wouldn't get another concussion.

Elijah leaned up against the bathroom counter, his back to it.

"So... First things first, showers are supposed to be warm." Vincent stated as he turned on the shower, twisting the knob so it was a suitable temperature.

 _"Oh..."_  Elijah whispered out quietly when he saw his error. Vincent snorted slightly at it.

Vincent turned around to face the lethargic Angel. "Alright, I'm gonna go out the door and give instructions from out there..." This was awkward. Vincent was not comfortable. This. He. What was he even doing with his life any more?

What he wasn't prepared for was the kicked puppy expression that encompassed Elijah's face when he told him he was going to leave the small room.

"You'll be fine," Vincent tried to assure Elijah, but even Vincent wasn't so sure how well Elijah would do.

"Can't you just stay in here with me?"

Vincent was very uncomfortable. Why did all the weird stuff happen to him and not his sister?

Vincent decided he'd just say it flat out. "You're gonna be naked," He said, faster than he anticipated.

Instead of a face of understanding or disgust crossing Elijah's face like Vincent expected, it was one of confusion.

 _"Really?"_  Elijah questioned and Vincent simply looked around the room, silently screaming for help. "I thought humans only removed their clothes when they changed them or when they wished to court someone."

"They also take them of when they want to get clean, so I'm just gonna go so I don't see anything I don't want to."

Elijah quirked an eyebrow at the fleeing brunet and let a smirk creep across his face. "What, I'm sure there's plenty you'd be willing to see, _Casanova_." Elijah said the sentence suavely, but when he leaned forward a bit, he lost his balance and it reminded Vincent of how drunk the Angel was. Really, it made him feel better about how Elijah was acting.

Vincent looked with a pleading look from the bathroom's doorway to the kitchen. "Please don't say things like that." Elijah gave him a shrug and a smile combination akin to one that screamed 'I don't care.'

Vincent closed the door (I little loudly if you ask me) in Elijah's face.

"Alright, blondie, if you're gonna take this shower, you're gonna have to strip down."

"Right to the point, Casanova. I like that." Elijah's voice was muffled by the door, but Vincent could hear the smirk in his voice. Hopefully, they'd both forget this and not have to deal with talking about all that happened in the morning.

At least that's what Vincent was hoping for.

Elijah peeled his shirt off of himself shakily, the blood had already begun to dry and stick the shirt to his back. He let it drop near his feet and worked to undress the rest off his body. He had a bit of trouble with the belt, but he eventually got it. It was his socks that were the hardest thing to get off.

They were so far down and they made the floor slippery and standing on one foot while drunk off your ass isn't really advisable.

"Vincent," Elijah whined, dragging out Vincent's name, from inside the bathroom, "I can't get my socks off."

"What do you want me to do about it?" Vincent was at a loss for what he could do. And, he was getting tired. He needed to go to sleep within the hour or he was going to pass out.

Elijah took a moment to answer. "Can you help me take them off?" Elijah sounded really innocent. Impossibly innocent.

Vincent wasn't sure if this was just drunk Elijah trying to put him in more compromising circumstances or not.

"Are you decent?" Vincent inquired cautiously.

Elijah looked at himself.

"Do socks count?"

Vincent full on face palmed. "No. No they don't. There are towels under the counter. You can use them to... Cover yourself." God, Vincent was about to kill himself this was so weird.

It was minute before Elijah finally announce that he was covered. "I think I count as decent."

"Then I guess I'm coming in..." Vincent turned the doorknob slowly and entered the room warmed by the steam from the shower. Vincent was definitely not prepared for what he saw when he entered the bathroom.

Elijah was sitting on the floor, legs out in front of him, and covered in what looked like every single towel that Vincent had put under the sink. The only parts of Elijah that Vincent could see were his sock covered feet and his face.

"Come to knock my socks off, _Casanova?"_ Elijah said with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Vincent could not contain his laughter. "You're an idiot," he choked out between laughs, clenching his sides as he wheezed and doubled over.

Elijah didn't seem as amused.

"Just take my socks off for me," Elijah pouted. Vincent kept laughing, though he was beginning to get it under control. "Please?" Elijah added quietly.

"Alright," Vincent paused as he sat down on the floor near Elijah's feet, _"Mr. Towel Mummy."_ Elijah gave him a glare. Vincent simply smiled.

The tables had turned.

Vincent pulled Elijah's feet into his lap and took his socks off. "See, that's wasn't so hard. Why couldn't you do that?"

"They're really far..." Elijah mumbled, staring at his feet longingly. "I miss them," he whispered quietly, eyes still fixed on his feet.

Vincent gave a slow nod as he set Elijah's feet back on the floor. "Alright, feet misser," Vincent stood and used the counter to get himself off the ground, "I'll be outside if you need anything else. All you have to do is go in there and use the water to wash the blood off. You can even use my soap if you want to."

"Thank you, Vincent."

"Sure thing, dude." Vincent smiled down at the pile of towels with a face and feet before closing the door behind him.

The rest of Elijah's shower went without much incident, other than when Elijah had yelled from the shower to inform Vincent that he, "Really likes how his soap smells," and that he'd, "Never noticed how nice it smelled." It was strange, but Vincent graciously accepted the compliment.

Vincent cleaned the floor of the blood that had spilled and hid the bloody rag that had gone from white to red (it didn't look like it was going to be white again anytime soon) while Elijah showered. He also folded the mountain of blankets that Elijah had put onto the bed before their drinking game to keep himself busy after he'd finished making himself a bed on the floor.

He heard the water finally cut off.

"You get all the blood off you?" Vincent called from the bedroom.  **(a/n: that sounds weird.)**

"I think so..." Elijah sounded more sober now, though, he also sounded more tired. "You don't mind handing me some clothes, do you?"

"Already ahead of you," Vincent had pulled out a pair of his own pajamas for Elijah to wear and was carrying it towards the bathroom door that connected to the bedroom. "I promise I won't look," he stated once he finally reached the door.

"I wouldn't mind if you did."

Vincent rolled his eyes and opened the door slightly, just enough to stick his arm through and give Elijah the clothes: a simple black tee-shirt and some dark grey sweats. Elijah took the clothes and Vincent closed the door again.

He decided that Elijah was fine getting into the bed on his own and that if he did happen to hurt himself, Vincent was literally in the same room. So, Vincent crawled into his makeshift bed on the floor and curled up to fall asleep and regret this whole drinking game when he woke up.

He heard the door open on the far side of the bed and the soft padding of Elijah's bare feet on the carpet of the bedroom's floor.

"Damn, it's only four."

Vincent was confused. "In the morning?"

"In the afternoon."

Vincent let out a short laugh in response. "I've got no problems with sleeping this liquor off."

Elijah hummed in agreement and Vincent heard the bed creak as he crawled into it. It was silent for a minute, just them and the sound of their breathing with the occasional rustling of sheets. 

"Are you sure you're okay sleeping on the floor?" Elijah broke the silence. "I could always sleep on the floor or, you know, there's plenty of room in the bed for the both of us." There was a beat of silence. "Platonically, of course," **(a/n: "no homo bro," he says after inviting another guy to sleep in a bed with him)** Elijah added and Vincent could hear the slight franticness in his voice.

"I'm fine, Elijah, but thank you for the offer," Vincent answered wholeheartedly.

"...Are you sure?"

"Do you want me to sleep in the bed with you or something?"

"No! No," Elijah tried to cover up what could be considered a blunder. Vincent found it funny how flustered the Angel who had been seemingly flirting with him consistently once he'd gotten drunk enough. "I just want you to be comfortable."

"The floor's very comfortable, Elijah. Don't worry about me so you can go to sleep, wake up and make sure you healed all of that concussion."

Vincent heard a noise of agreement from Elijah before he was finally able to drift off into a restful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that's the first part of Chapter 2. It's almost 5000 words and it was a nice wind-down from the other stuff I've been writing as of late. I haven't done a read-through yet, but while writing it felt more domestic than anything. I like it though. Domestic Elijah and Vincent. I hope I get to write more of it. It's relaxing at times.
> 
> The only thing I don't hope that happened while writing this is that they're both out of character, even if they were drunk. Welp, off for the read through. I might actually do it tomorrow when I haven't been running on 6 hours of sleep for maybe seventeen hour.
> 
> Did me read through and it actually still seems short, but then again wattpad recommends doing short updates. The ending was kind of abrupt too. I like it though. It was fun to write.
> 
> I did a second read through the day after finishing and I'm not that bothered by it actually. No idea if they were out of character, but this was a joy to write and actually spend a few days on.


	22. Chapter Two-Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so it been a while since i updated...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> small spoiler warning for season 11

**So... Been a while since I've posted... Honestly, I have no valid reason. Life just got in the way. Hopefully, there won't be a huge, unannounced break anytime soon. Again. Yeah... Sorry.**

Vincent found himself stirring from his alcohol induced  ~~coma~~  sleep in what seemed to be a bed. It wasn't alarming, the bed. It was simply the bed he had claimed as his own once he'd begun to stay at the apartment, but as normal as waking in your own bed should be, it isn't when you fell asleep in a makeshift bed on the floor.

Vincent only cracked his eyes for a second, just to make sure he wasn't in some murder dungeon that smelled exactly like the apartment when Elijah was cooking breakfast. His eyes were soon closed again and he was scrubbing his hands over his face before letting them rest, clasped over his eyes.

He should have expected a hangover this bad from a night of drinking with Elijah, but then again he hadn't really been thinking about the morning after.

God how he wished he had.

He took another deep breath without moving from where he lay and went through each scent that was in the room. There was his own scent, as was usual for the bed, but Elijah's was mingled with it too, even if it was only faint.

Vincent's pounding head was confused as to why Elijah's scent was so faint, but he soon realized the answer was simple and that he should stop trying to think with a hangover.

Elijah had washed with Vincent's soap, worn Vincent's clothes to bed, and slept in his bed. Of course his scent was going to be faint.

But no matter how faint Elijah's sugar-water scent was, Vincent couldn't deny that he wasn't bothered with how it mixed with his own scent.

Vincent finally rolled out bed, but not before dozing between unconscious and awake for a few minutes. He again rubbed his eyes and massaged his temples to try and subside the skull-splitting headache he had. He stood with a groan, turned to the clock on the bedstand to check the time and nearly decided to just go back to sleep-dying because it was five in the fucking morning.

He didn't go back to sleep-dying.

Vincent shuffled out of the bedroom, wincing at the kitchen lights before doing more shuffling so he could ~~die~~ sit at the island. He plopped himself in one of the stools and basically melted into a puddle on top of the island, his eyes barely open and watching Elijah from behind as he cooked diligently.

"Did you move me to the bed last night?" Vincent croaked out, clearing his throat because God damn did his voice sound weird. Thirteen hours of sleep can do that. It was like morning voice but on fucking steroids.

Elijah peaked behind him, and Vincent could see the light bags beneath his eyes which he knew shouldn't be there if Elijah had healed himself of his hangover. He squinted his eyes but stopped doing that when he realized doing that closed his eyes because they were barely open to begin with.

"I got the sleep I needed, put you into the bed and went to talk to Richard in the backroom so we wouldn't disturb you," Elijah spoke as he went back to cooking whatever he was cooking on the stove. It smelled like sausage.

"Mm," Vincent mumbled out with a nod before tucking his face into his arms. He soon heard Elijah padding over to where he sat. Vincent peaked up and took in Elijah. He was still in Vincent's clothes, the shirt just a little too small while the pants were just a little too big in the waist so Elijah kept pulling them up as they slowly slid down his hips as he walked. They didn't fall much, but it was enough to notice.

Vincent gave him another once over as Elijah extended two fingers to his forehead. "You're still wearing my clothes?" It was an innocent statement that was more of a question than anything.

"They're comfy and I'm lazy," Elijah searched Vincent's face for a second, "but I can take them off you want me to..."

"What? No," Vincent sat up quickly and let out a small forced laugh, "No, no, it's fine. I've got no problems what-so-ever with you wearing my clothes."

That smirk, that fucking cheeky grin Elijah gets when he thinks of something (usually something that will embarrass Vincent) slowly crept its way across Elijah's face and Vincent realized it too late.

"So you like me wearing your clothes?" Elijah asked with his head turned ever so slightly, a brow cocked and that fucking grin just plastered over his face.

"It's moments like these that remind me I had a valid reason to tackle you last night," Vincent said as he smashed his face back into its hiding place in his arms.

Elijah slung an arm over Vincent's shoulders. "It's alright, Vinney-boy. We all have our fetishes."

"Will you just fix this hangover so I can beat you up," Vincent said in a near growl, his face still hidden.

"Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed," Elijah commented quietly as his arm retreated from Vincent's shoulders, but stopping once his hand was splayed over top the Skinwalker's hunched back. Vincent tried to get another cranky remark out but was silenced when Elijah's grace crept through him slowly and took away the pain accompanied with drinking nearly half a liquor store.

God, that really wasn't a good idea.

Vincent let his mind wander as the grace soaked into the more pained nooks and crannies of his body. He thought about how Elijah had been doing since Christmas. He didn't seem too different, maybe more tired, but after talking to Nicolson (who had seen his fair share of post-December Elijah) he'd been assured that some level of depression was normal.

Even with that, Elijah's behavior still didn't sit right. Something was just off, just one thing, and he couldn't put his finger on it for the life of him.

The grace found the last of the ache in his body and Vincent decided to focus on the feeling of Elijah's grace washing away that last ache before Elijah would inevitably go back to cooking.

Vincent wasn't sure what Angel grace was supposed to feel like, but he'd always thought it was supposed to be warm from what Elijah had told him about what grace looks like. Elijah had described grace, when in a portable form, as usually blue and wispy, sometimes comparable to fire depending on the Angel. And then there was what the grace looked like when an Angel died. Elijah had described it as a small campfire suddenly becoming a dying star.

"It's beautiful, tragic, too bright to look at but at the same time, it's too bright to look away. And the Angel..." Elijah had paused while trying to describe what it was. He looked down, seeming to be recalling some memory that caused his eyes to take on a glassy sheen, even if only slightly. "It's agony in every sense of the word."

What Vincent didn't understand about Elijah's grace (mind you, it's the only grace he's ever been healed by) is the cold nip it held.

A cold nip that Vincent swore got colder and colder each time he felt the Angel's grace.

Elijah retracted his hand and gave his upper body a shake. The healing had obviously taken at least something out of him.

"When was the last time you had a soul?" Vincent asked, feigning curiosity and hoping Elijah wouldn't hear the concern that laced his voice.

"Hm?" Elijah said as his hands dropped from his eyes after he had scrubbed them over his face. "Oh," Elijah paused for a split second, "yesterday." Vincent nodded slowly. Elijah gave him a smile before turning his back to the Skinwalker and returning to cooking.

Vincent propped his head up on one of his hands as he watched Elijah flit about the kitchen, grabbing this and that, stirring another thing or pulling a completely new thing out of another.

"If you don't eat food, how can you cook so well?" Vincent asked to break the quiet, though it wasn't very quiet. In actuality, there was a nice din in the kitchen: the fan above the stove going, the stove itself sizzling, the hum of the fridge, chopping, slicing, pouring, all of it mixed together to make a comforting song of its own tune.

Elijah spared a glance in Vincent's general direction. "You pick things up when you live as long as an Angel," he answered, stirring the contents of the pan in front of him with a spatula. "And you get bored," he added offhandedly.

Vincent let out a huff-like laugh while nodding. "I think it would take an Angel's lifetime for me to even get the basics of cooking."

Elijah snorted, "I think you'd need at least two."

"I'm not that bad!"

Vincent watched Elijah shake his head as he moved the content of the pan (eggs) to a plate that already held a few pieces of sausage before it was all placed back in the toaster oven to keep warm.

Elijah grabbed an apple and placed it on a clean cutting board, turning to Vincent as he grabbed a knife. "Face it, Vincent. You're an awful cook."

Vincent grumbled to himself but didn't object because it was the truth.

Elijah finished cutting up the apple along with a few other fruits. He placed them into their own bowl and took the plate of food from the toaster oven. He carried them over to the island and slid them over to Vincent along with silverware and a cup of coffee brewed to Vincent's liking.

Vincent thanked him and began to eat, glancing up periodically to see watch Elijah clean the kitchen.

"Do you need me to check the mail?" Vincent asked. Sometimes he wasn't sure what reason Elijah had to keep him around, but it made him feel better if he helped out.

"I got it while you were asleep. It was just the normal stuff; nothing from Nicolson or Roy about the burn incident." Ah, yes, the burn incident. A young, blonde woman had been found in an alley with a strange circular burn in the middle of her chest. Vincent couldn't find any anomalies with the woman's health through scent, but had commented that she reeked of stress or fear, he wasn't sure. Elijah had taken interest in it because the woman's body had been stripped of her soul.

"And no word from the Reapers?" Elijah had tried to make contact with the Second Tier Reapers of Manhattan for help with the case since it would be right up their alley.

Second Tier Reapers were different from normal Reapers in quite a few ways. One, they weren't Angels, just re-purposed human souls. As such, they had earned the title of "Second Tier." Most Angels regarded them as lowly and impure, but they were vital to making sure souls got where they needed to go with the inevitable extinction of Angels looming on the horizon.

Second, these Reapers did the more dangerous jobs of reaping: they reaped vengeful spirits, sent monsters to Purgatory, and reaped witches who had countless ways to avoid Reapers (many of them endangering to the Reaper). It was only within the last ten years that they'd begun reaping human souls more regularly.

Third, they carried a scythe of sorts which was a big change from what the Reaper Angels carried (nothing). The scythe was fashioned for the Second Tier Reaper specially and if used by any other, the results could be catastrophic, though no one new exactly what would happen.

The reaping of souls was different too: Second Tier Reapers, when reaping a soul, would live through the life of the soul they were reaping in a split second. They'd use lives they'd 'lived' through before and their own human emotions (re-purposed from their own time as a soul) to decide where the soul was to go, Heaven, Hell, or Purgatory.

Vincent had never met a Second Tier Reaper before, but thinking about what it meant to see a Reaper, he decided it was best that he never saw one.

"No, no word from the Reapers," Elijah answered as he finished putting the last pan away.

Vincent took a sip from his coffee. "You think they'll answer?"

Elijah shrugged and sat across from Vincent a the island. "I only hear from them once a year when they send me a letter saying they'll be unable to attend the summit." Elijah sighed. "I should probably just get into contact the Reaper Angels, but with Death dead..." Elijah trailed off quietly.

"Death is dead?" Vincent asked, confused.

"Mhm?" Elijah pulled himself from his thoughts, "Oh, yeah, Reaped by his own scythe."

"Dang..." Vincent breathed out and Elijah nodded out in agreement.

"Yeah, surprised me a bit, but then again he'd been poking around with _those_ hunters and you don't poke around with those hunters without dying." Vincent agreed silently.

"So, are we just going to wait till we get more information on this burn thing?"

Elijah sighed. "Yes, and it's going to be so boring."

Elijah snapped up as the apartment's warding flared.

"Whiny as ever, E," an unfamiliar voice stated from across the kitchen, silent to Vincent's ears.

Elijah sprung up out of his seat to stand in front of Vincent. "Manifest yourself," he stated sternly as Vincent looked from Elijah's face to the empty space he seemed to be glaring at.

And in the empty space, a man with ash-blonde hair suddenly appeared.

"Calm down, I'm not here for him," the man gave a small nod towards Vincent and Elijah relaxed, but he didn't step away from his place in front of Vincent.

The man studied Elijah's face before moving his gaze to Vincent's shortly before focusing on the space above Vincent's head.

Vincent looked up to see nothing and this seemed to amuse the man slightly. Vincent decided to glare at this mystery man.

"It's good to see you too, Grim."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger! >:D Next part will probably be out in a week (maybe less???). I promise.


	23. Chapter Two-Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'd suggest fucking each other's brains out to get into a better mood."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ****  
>  _"The next part will be up within a week."_  
>   
>  \- Me, more than a week ago

"It's good to see you too, Grim," Elijah's voice rang out into the kitchen as the mystery man's scent finally washed over Vincent. He smelled like a garden cemetery in full bloom, hundreds of flowers blowing in a crisp, summer breeze.

Vincent looked to Elijah. "Just clarifying, he is a reaper, right?" Elijah glanced back for a second, his lips parting to answer Vincent but his words fell short when Grim took a step towards Vincent.

"Bingo, Spot," Grim said with a smile. Vincent nearly growled at the nickname and a glance to Elijah told him that he too was not a fan of it.

Though, Elijah had relaxed a bit. He'd opted for leaning against the counter of the island instead of returning to his seat across from Vincent.

"I assume you're here about the incident with the missing soul?" Elijah questioned as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Grim let out a low whistle, looking around the kitchen again. "I leave you to your own devices for 300 years and suddenly you're  _all_  business," the reaper commented, tucking his hands into his pockets.

Elijah looked at the man blankly. "It's been 316 years and business is what I do now. I settled down."

Grim let out a breath. "Yeah, you settled down alright," he looked to Vincent quickly before focusing back on Elijah. "Apartment's nice, the guy looks nicer."

"We're not-" Vincent tried to clarify. The reaper's pale, gray eyes looked to him again and his mouth flattened into a straight line.

"He's wearing your clothes, cooking you breakfast, and I can see that there's only one bed in this apartment," he said, pointing an accusing finger towards the bedroom.

Elijah scrubbed a hand over his face and let his hands rest on the cool granite of the island. "We're not together. He couldn't get into the local pack so I took him in and now he keeps me company and helps on cases."

"Oh, I bet he's great at keeping you company."

Elijah rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean."

"Do I?" Grim asked, pulling his hands from his pocket and crossing his arms over his chest (much like Elijah had previously been doing). "Because last time I checked, you had a thing for Skinwalkers." Vincent had been watching the two, his eyes bouncing back and forth from one to the other, but after that statement, he simply set his gaze to the floor and questioned his life.

Elijah froze, rigid.

"That was 316 years-"

"You and I both know 316 years is not a lot of time."

Vincent pulled himself out of his mini 'what the fuck is even going on' coma to ask a question. "I mean, I know Angels call each other brother and sister and all that but are you are you guys seriously related or something?" He asked, looking from blonde to blonde, the both of them around the same height. Grim was shorter that Elijah by a bit and he did have gray eyes (the shades of blonde were different too).

The two stopped their squabbling to look to Vincent.

Elijah shook his head and massaged the bridge of his nose. "No, no, we just spent a lot of time together in Heaven."

"-And afterward," Grim completed.

Vincent nodded slowly. There was a beat of silence. "Are you sure?"

"Positive. He's a Second Tier Reaper," Elijah clarified and Vincent nodded.

"I'll have you know that's the only thing I'm in the second tier of, Spot," Grim said with a small smirk.

 _"Because you're in the twelfth tier with everything else,"_  Elijah muttered under his breath. Grim shot him a look before focusing back on Vincent.

"My name's Vincent," he told the reaper, hoping it would deter him from calling him Spot.

Grim stepped closer so that he was about an arm's length away from the Skinwalker. Elijah shifted so he could watch the reaper. "Oh, I know."

Vincent looked to Elijah for more clarification. "Your name and the amount of time you have left is displayed above your head for Second Tier Reapers to read. Now, can we get on with the reason for my calling you here?"

Grim rolled his eyes and focused back on Elijah. "We have not been able to locate the lost soul, but we have reason to suspect that a human has obtained part of a scythe."

Elijah nodded. "And what makes you think that? I couldn't find anything that would lead me to believe a human had gotten control of a scythe."

"Part of a scythe," Grim corrected, glancing to Vincent and slightly surprised when he saw him listening intently. Maybe this Skinwalker wasn't just Elijah's boyfriend. "In the year 1753, a year you skipped out on, a human obtained half of a scythe."

Vincent adjusted in his seat so that he was more comfortable. "Which half?"

"The staff half; the blade half was still in possession of the reaper and had been repaired, but no one had been able to find the missing portion till a human started dropping bodies with circular burns on the chest. What we believe happened was once the human picked up the staff portion, the part of the reaper's soul that was still in the scythe fused with the human's soul and turned them into a bumbling zombie that craved reaping souls. The souls the hybrid was pulling out of bodies ended up fusing with the human's soul and in the end, we had quite the powerful zombie-like thing."

Elijah's brows slowly knit together as the story went on. "How did you get rid of it?"

"We had to get Raphael down here to smite it because it had become too powerful to deal with."

"So we need to catch this thing before it gets out of hand?" Vincent asked.

"Exactly."

Elijah nodded. "How did you track it? I couldn't sense anything like a reaper and human soul fusion."

"The reaper who the scythe belonged to, they can sense and track where it is. Plus, there's only been one scythe to break since the break that led to the 1753 incident. The reaper's got to take care of one more scheduled reaping and then I'll have her teleported to you."

"How come she can't teleport herself?" Elijah asked, confused as to why a Second Tier Reaper couldn't do such a simple task.

"She somehow became tethered to a human. We haven't been able to fix it, but she and the human seem to have it worked out so that she can perform her reaper duties without a problem."

Elijah pushed himself off the counter and brushed off his pants. "Thank you for the information, Grim. It was greatly appreciated."

Grim nodded with a smile, sneaking a look to Vincent out of the corner of his eye. "It was good to see you, E." Grim patted Elijah's shoulder. "Oh, and you two should probably get dressed. You're really giving people the wrong idea with the whole 'lounging around in my totally-not-boyfriend's pajamas' thing," he said with air quotes. Elijah simply looked at the reaper pointedly while Vincent rolled his eyes.

Grim held his hands up in surrender, "Hot  _damn_ , you guys are grumpy. I'd suggest fucking each other's brains out to get into a better mood."

 _"That's it,"_ Elijah growled out before lunging at Grim only to stumble through open air. Elijah looked around at the empty space before letting his arms fall to his sides with a grumble.

Vincent stood, pushing the stool he'd been sitting on in. "He reminds me of you a little bit," he commented as he smoothed his shirt out with his hand.

Elijah pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes. "Please don't say that," he said, voice pained. Vincent snorted.

"I'm gonna go take a shower and get dressed. I'd suggest you do the same, minus the shower."

Elijah dropped his hands from his eyes and hiked his pants back up. "You just want to keep your nice soap to yourself."

Vincent shook his head with a small laugh. "What ever, just make sure you change before this reaper-human duo shows up so we don't have to suffer through more 'lighthearted harassment.'"

"Sure thing, Spot," Elijah teased as he pushed past Vincent towards the bedroom door.

"If you start calling me that I will turn you into chicken wings, you hear me!" Vincent called after Elijah, half jokingly and half serious.

Elijah poked his head out of the bedroom. "You and I both know you can barely make toast, much less wings."

"I will end you." Vincent pointed a finger at the cheeky Angel.

"I'll put it on my calendar, dog-breath," Elijah smiled and closed the door behind him. Vincent shook his head.

He picked up his phone, flipping through the contacts to find Nicolson's. "I'm going to call Nicolson and Roy and tell them what we've learned." He heard a noise of agreement from the bedroom.

Elijah tugged the shirt over his head and pushed the sweatpants down so they fell around his ankles before scooping them up and throwing them into the hamper by the door to the bathroom. He pulled a fresh dress shirt from the closet and shrugged it on, buttoning it quickly. It didn't take long for him to finish dressing in his usual ensemble.

He eyed his hair in the mirror on the door to the closet, deciding his bangs could use a trim. Maybe after the case was over he'd take a 'me day.'

Maybe a 'me day' that also included Vincent because who are we kidding, he's not going anywhere without that damn Skinwalker anytime soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll get the next part written and posted as soon as I can.


	24. Chapter Two, Part Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is short, but short updates let me get content written and up a lot quicker.  
> I'm thinking the next part will be a bit longer.

Vincent exited the bathroom, hair still drying and dressed in a simple, black, long-sleeved shirt along with a pair of jeans.

Elijah looked up from where he sat at the island, leafing through some worn, leather bound book. Richard's mirror was nearby him, the drunk snoring loudly.

Ah, yes, Richard.

Vincent didn't like Richard.

Sure, it was great that Elijah had someone to talk to while Vincent slept or was just plain occupied with something else, but Richard rubbed Vincent the wrong way. Maybe it was the lack of manners or maybe it was just because he was a mean, old drunk when you stripped away everything else. He'd made more than his fair share of rude comments about women respected by both Elijah and Vincent alike.

Along with all of that he'd also had the audacity to talk about Vincent's sister as if she was a cheap whore.

Vincent, of course, did not take lightly to this. Elijah could see how uncomfortable Richard made Vincent and had talked to the soul on multiple occasions with all of them ending with Richard saying something along the lines of, "I thought 'e was a monster, not a bitch."

It was time for Richard to go.

"You'll catch a cold if you don't dry your hair," Elijah warned, marking his page and closing the book.

"What are you, my mom?" Vincent joked as he padded across the kitchen towards the coffee machine. Elijah shook his head with a smile.

"No, but if I need to call your mother, I will." Vincent had been placing a filter into the coffee machine but froze as soon as the sentence left Elijah's mouth.

Vincent turned, eyes pleading. "Please don't call my mom. She threatens to fly out here and make sure I'm eating right and sleeping on fresh sheets as it is. She doesn't need another excuse to start planning a visit."

Elijah snorted. "I wish I'd had someone to get on my ass about taking care of myself when I left home for the first time," he mused, but it broke Vincent's heart a little. In his time spent with Elijah he'd found that Angel's weren't solitary warriors of Heaven, they were extremely social. It helped them work well in large groups.  
What he'd gathered from the small amount of information he'd been given about Elijah's fleeing of Heaven and after was that Elijah didn't have many people for a long time. He'd been alone in a whole new world with no one to turn to.

Vincent turned back to the coffee maker with a sad smile. "I'm sure my mom would love to take care of another person like a son. She always said she wanted me to have a brother."  
Elijah's heart swelled. "You think so? I always wanted a mom ever since I was stationed to watch over a church during a bad storm. There was this woman who huddled all the children close to her and told them stories about the thunder and animals and other children. They were wonderful stories," Elijah trailed off, a nostalgic smile crawling over his face.  
Vincent had been joking about his mom, but he couldn't take it away from Elijah. He looked so happy. "I know so," he said as he began to prepare his coffee.

He hadn't been lying when he'd said his mother always wanted for Vincent to have a brother, but he wasn't so sure she'd take Elijah in as a son. He could probably talk her into it. He knew Elijah could use a matriarchal figure with all the ill coping mechanisms he had.  
Vincent sipped his coffee, leaning against the counter. Elijah picked his book up and began leafing through it again.

"What are you reading?" VIncent asked as he took another sip, cringing a bit at the taste before turning to scoop some sweetener in along with a splash of milk as Elijah looked up from his book again.

"Hunter journal, one of the only ones I have that came into contact with Second Teir Reapers, but even then it's still scarce," Elijah mumbled, reading over a page more closely.  
Vincent nodded. "How come you need to read up on Second Teir Reapers?"

"There's not a lot about what happens when a human picks up a scythe, but somewhere in this journal I swear he talks about how he picked one up, what happened when he picked it up, and how he put it down."

Vincent's brows furrowed. "He put it down?"

Elijah nodded. "It was a full scythe instead of half if memory serves..." He flipped a few more pages before letting out a noise of excitement. "I found the entry." Vincent stalked over to where Elijah was and stood over his shoulder, coffee in hand. _"'When I picked up the scythe thousands of words rushed into my mind,'"_ Elijah began to read the scrawled handwriting that was in a language unfamiliar to Vincent. Possibly German, though it didn't seem to matter because Elijah was able to translate it. _"'They were the voices of so many people I'd never heard. They whispered words to me, some I'd never heard before, but they soon grew louder and louder as memories of so many things I'd never done flashed through my mind. The scythe was snatched out of my hands by the reaper soon after and I collapsed into a heap on the floor. I was not at full strength for days.'"_

Elijah went silent, examining the sketches of the reaper and his scythe along with some of the memories the hunter had seen.

"Do you understand what all that even means?" Vincent asked as he sipped his coffee and braced himself against the island, still reading over the unfamiliar words on the page.

"Not particularly..." Elijah trailed off only to begin again soon after. "What it does tell us is that the reaper who the scythe belongs to can take the scythe back."  
Vincent nodded and stood up straight again. "Good to know." Elijah agreed and kept looking through the journal even though he knew it wouldn't give him any more information.

"So, what?" Vincent started, "All we have to do is get this reaper to take back the half of the scythe and we're golden?"  
The scent of a cemetery in bloom flooded Vincent's senses again, this time accompanied by the scent of a south eastern forest before it rained and a scent that was vaguely familiar.

"Sounds like a plan to me, Spot."

Vincent turned quickly, some of his coffee spilling from his cup. What he saw was the ash blonde he'd seen that morning along with an unfamiliar woman and...

"Lupin?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was a lot of dialogue.  
> Next part will be up when I can. (Probably this weekend since I decided to do a weekend writing marathon and I'm trying to write 5k over the weekend).


	25. Chapter Two, Part Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vincent stepped forward. "You've amplified your grace before, right?"  
> Elijah coughed into his hand before rubbing it over the back of his neck. "I developed the theory and talked another Angel through the process..."  
> "And?" Lupin pressed.  
> "He wasn't very good at following directions and Heaven decided to pull out of developing the idea."  
> The three of them stared at Elijah with fear and astoundment apparent on their faces.  
> "I mean, I didn't stop developing the idea. It should work fine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little longer than before. The end of this chapter should be soon. Then we'll get on with a case that focuses on E and V more.

"Lupin?" Vincent placed the coffee mug down on the island, shaking his hand to get some of the coffee off of it. He quickly found himself in front of the dark haired man, his eyes only a color brighter.

The man's eyes narrowed. "Vincent?"

Vincent's eyes widened before he pulled the man into a hug.

Both Elijah and Grim watched, silent and surprised, while the new Second Tier Reaper watched with a small smile.

Elijah was the first to speak. "You two know each other?"

Vincent pulled away from Lupin, only a hair taller than the man, and patted him on the shoulder before turning back to Elijah.

"Yeah," Vincent nodded as he spoke, "He'd come up during the summer with his family while we were in high school."

"It's been, what?" Lupin put a hand on Vincent's shoulder, "Four, five years since I last saw you?" Vincent nodded, a big smile on his face. "Well, you grew up a lot in just five years," Lupin commented, leaning back and looking up at Vincent.

The smile on Vincent's face never faltered and it was contagious. Elijah found a smile lifting at the corner of his mouth as he watched Vincent catch up with his old friend who just so happened to be the only human in the room.

The reaper behind Lupin and Vincent stepped around the two and extended a hand to Elijah.

"I'm Hawthorne," She smiled warmly as Elijah took her hand and shook it.

"Elijah," he said before letting go. Hawthorne looked back to see Vincent and Lupin speaking animatedly as they spoke about what had happened in their lives while they hadn't seen the other.

Elijah watched too. "Small world," Elijah commented and the two of them shared a laugh.  
Grim stood off from the group, his hand again in his pockets. "So..." he said and the boys quieted down. Grim rocked on his heels. "I'll leave you four to it, I supposed. You know how to get in touch."

With that, Grim was gone.

The boys began speaking to each other again almost immediately and Hawthorne simply shook her head, a small smile gracing her features.  
Elijah pulled out his phone to check the time. "Alright," Elijah said to get the attention of the boys and it worked, the two of them turning to listen intently. "How much do you two know about what's going on?"

Hawthorne was the first to speak. "He knows as much as I know, which is that a human has picked up the piece of my scythe I lost twenty years ago and has started killing people."

Elijah nodded. "Precisely. We need to get this under control and we need to do it fast. We don't need panic within the borough and we definitely don't need hunters to start poking around." Elijah paused and looked about the room. No one seemed confused yet. "We've only got so long till this hybrid is too powerful to deal with, so we should start looking as soon as possible." Elijah looked to Hawthorne. "Can you sense it?"

Hawthorne closed her eyes, a few beats of silence washing over them before she opened her eyes with a sigh. "No, not really."  
Elijah nodded, his brows pulling together in thought.

Vincent was the first to speak. "What if we brought you to to someplace where we know the hybrid's been?"

"That could work..." Hawthorne trailed off.

Elijah pulled his coat from the island along with Vincent's scarf and leather jacket, throwing it to the Skinwalker. "Then let's get moving." Elijah looked to Lupin's black hoodie. It definitely wasn't going to keep him warm. It was February for God's sake.  
Elijah went to the coat closet and pulled out one of his old coats. He held it up, comparing it to Lupin before shrugging and handing it to the man.

Elijah went to the coat closet and pulled out one of his old coats. He held it up, comparing it to Lupin before shrugging and handing it to the man.  
"Thanks," Lupin said as he shrugged on the coat. It reached his knees as it was supposed to, but the sleeves were a tad bit too long.

"Thanks," Lupin said as he shrugged on the coat. It reached his knees as it was supposed to, but the sleeves were a tad bit too long.  
Vincent was at the door, pulling on his shoes and hat. Elijah soon joined him and put on his shoes before pulling out his keys and unlocking the door.

Vincent was at the door, pulling on his shoes and hat. Elijah soon joined him and put on his shoes before pulling out his keys and unlocking the door.  
The city, even at four in the morning, was still alive. People strolled along the street while others were up getting a job in. Some were returning home after the grave yard shift and others simply starting their day. Cars still thundered by and you could hear horns honking far off and nearby.

The city, even at four in the morning, was still alive. People strolled along the street while others were up getting a job in. Some were returning home after the grave yard shift and others simply starting their day. Cars still thundered by and you could hear horns honking far off and nearby.

"Wow," Vincent said, seemingly marveling over a car parked on the street in front of the apartment, "You've still got the car." Vincent gave a glance back to Lupin.

"Of course I've still got the car," Lupin mumbled, pulling out his keys and giving Vincent a harmless tap on the back of his head.  
Lupin looked back to Elijah. "Will we need to drive?"

Elijah advanced toward the car, nodding and marveling over the glossy gray color of what looked like an older Mustang. Though, Elijah wouldn't know. He's never been good with cars. It was a two door, and it looked intimidating almost.

Elijah gave a low whistle. "What is she?" He asked, eyes raking over the large hood scoop.

Lupin's eyes lit up as he unlocked the passenger door. "1969 Mustang Boss 429," he rattled off, sliding the passenger seat forward so that Elijah and Vincent could pile into the backseat. "It was my dad's before he died when I was thirteen. I got her as a project car after that." He slid the passenger seat into place so Hawthorne could get in.  
Lupin closed the door behind Hawthorne and jogged around the front to get in the driver's seat. "Looks like Grim finally learned that the car always comes too," Lupin commented to Hawthorne before cranking up the engine.

Elijah guided Lupin through the city to the crime scene. He parked in the alley way, the police tape already gone as Elijah was trying to avoid word of the attack getting out.  
Hawthorne had her eyes closed again. They were silent as she tried to pick up traces of the hybrid.

"It's faint," she stated quietly as she quickly got out of the car, Lupin scrambling after her. Elijah and Vincent figured their way out of the car and followed her as she strode quickly down the alley way, quickly looking left and right as she went.

She stopped abruptly, Lupin bumping into her back. "There's a lot of energy here, but after this, it just stops."

Elijah nodded. He hadn't been to this end of the alley when he'd come to the crime scene, merely the body. He could faintly feel the pulse of a fading energy when he approached the area where Hawthorne stood.

"Could he have teleported? I mean, it's got part of a reaper's soul in it and they can teleport." Vincent asked.

Elijah shook his head. "It's possible, but I highly doubt it. If you don't know what you're doing, you'll use a lot more energy than a single soul."

Lupin pulled the borrowed coat around him tighter. "But what if he's got more than one soul? I mean, I know you said you've only found one body, but Hawthorne felt the lost part of her scythe at least a month ago."

Elijah got closer to the air. "Grim failed to mention that..." He muttered, staring down the empty area in front of Hawthorne that he couldn't deny felt like an amateur teleportation. "I think I've got an idea." Elijah's voice was distant as he spoke

Hawthorne gave a glance to Elijah. "What do you have in mind?"

Elijah focused his gaze on the concrete in front of him. "It would involve me touching your soul," Elijah looked to Hawthorne who raised a brow in consideration, "and using you as an amplifier for my grace," Elijah finished, looking to VIncent. "Amplification won't hurt, but touching your soul will," Elijah explained, looking again to Hawthorne to gage her reaction to the fact that there would be pain. She didn't seem too bothered by it.

"Why do you need to touch her soul?" Lupin butted in.

Elijah turned to face the man. "The hybrid has part of her soul in it, so if I touch her soul I'll have something to look for when I amplify my grace. Amplifying my grace is just letting me send runners of my grace out further using something more powerful than me, say a human soul, to, well, amplify it."

Vincent stepped forward. "You've amplified your grace before, right?"

Elijah coughed into his hand before rubbing it over the back of his neck. "I developed the theory and talked another Angel through the process..."

"And?" Lupin pressed.

"He wasn't very good at following directions and Heaven decided to pull out of developing the idea."

The three of them stared at Elijah with fear and astoundment apparent on their faces.

"I mean, _I_ didn't stop developing the idea. It should work fine."

The fear on Vincent's face faded slightly. "Then let's do it."

Lupin sputtered for a good few seconds, eyes darting from Elijah to Vincent and back again. "You don't even know why Heaven pulled out. _Heaven_ _."_   Lupin emphasized.

"It was only dangerous for the being trying to use the other person as an amplifier, the only thing that happened to the amplifier was some knock back," Elijah tried to soothe Lupin's worry. This needed to happen. If this hybrid could teleport, it was way more powerful than he'd first suspected.

"You're sure you know what you're doing, Eli?" Vincent asked. Elijah nodded. "Then everything will be fine, Lupin. Elijah is trust worthy."

Lupin tried to blink the worry from his eyes. "Alright," he looked to the ground and waved a hand to the three, "Get on with it then." Lupin paused before speaking again."Oh, and Angel boy," Lupin pointed a finger at Elijah, "There's going to be hell to pay if she gets hurt in any way." Elijah nodded.

"I can work with that. Now," Elijah looked to Vincent, "I'm going to need your belt."

Vincent began to undo his belt. "What does my belt have to do with any of this?" He asked as he held it out to Elijah.

Elijah promptly turned to Hawthorne. "You might want to put this in your mouth." Hawthorne took the belt from Elijah and examined it before looking up at him skeptically. "It'll only hurt for a little bit, I promise," he soothed, voice soft. She nodded and he turned back to Vincent and Lupin. "I'm going to need one of you at each end of the alley way to keep watch. We don't need any witnesses. If anyone comes and notices, I need you to remember what they look like. Got it?" The two of them nodded before continuing down to opposite ends of the alley way. VIncent went to the end by the car while Lupin stationed himself at the closer end of the alley to Hawthorne and Elijah.

"I'm going to place my forearm across your chest from here," he pointed to one shoulder and then the other, "to here and pin you up against the wall so you don't fall. Is that alright? I could get a chair if you'd rather that."

"This is just fine, but thank you for the concern," she said with a small smile.

Elijah nodded. He did as he said and firmly pressed her against the wall. "Do you have any concerns as of now?" Hawthorne shook her head. "I'd suggest putting the belt in your mouth now." Hawthorne did as Elijah suggested. "Please try to keep your arms by your side, but I'll understand if you are unable to."  
Elijah closed his eyes and focused on letting his grace bubble under the fingertips of his right hand. He opened his eyes again, his grace still churning under his fingertips. "I will try to do this as quick as possible. Now, I'm going to count to three and on three I will begin." Hawthorne nodded.  
Elijah positioned his hand just under where her sternum ended.

"One," he began, voice still as calm and measured as he'd been when explaining what he was going to do to Hawthorne. "Two." Hawthorne took a deep breath, preparing herself. "Three."

Elijah pushed through her being towards what was arguably a Second Tier Reaper's soul. It was what was left untouched when they were turned into reapers and helped give them the power to keep going.

His eyes were closed tight and he could vaguely feel Hawthorne squirming, but he found himself growing more and more distant. He focused fully on finding her soul.  
It didn't take long, simply longer than it would to find a human's soul since a Second Tier Reaper's soul didn't lie as closely to the surface. They were smaller, for lack of a better term.

He found it and let his grace envelope it slightly, memorizing the soul as quickly as possible. He felt what was almost like a skin-graft of what must be Lupin's soul onto hers but quickly disregarded that. He needed to focus on her soul.

Memories soon started to drift into his mind, memories he knew were from her time as a human. White dresses and meadow grass and trees.  
He extracted his hand as quickly as was safe. He opened his eyes, Hawthorne catching her breath and the belt on the ground. He let her down.

"You're all right?" He asked as he stepped back to give her some space.

She nodded. "I'll be fine."

Elijah looked down the alley to Lupin, nodding to him that he could return to them before doing the same to Vincent.  
Lupin came to Hawthorne's side. She was already breathing steadier.

"Are you okay?" Lupin asked with wide eyes as Vincent finally joined them again.

"Yeah, yeah. It wasn't painful, more so a shock and an uncomfortable, unpleasant sensation." Elijah made a note of that description. He'd touched souls that were within bodies before, but it had been quite a long time since then. Though, at the time he hadn't been particularly concerned with how the human felt.

"Alright, phase two," Elijah clapped his hands together. Touching Hawthorne's soul had had the bonus effect of putting him at full power, something that hadn't happened in quite a while. "You ready, Vincent?" He asked, stepping towards the Skinwalker.

Vincent let out a deep breath, shaking his arms out. "As ready as I'll ever be." Elijah nodded and stood across from Vincent. He let his eyes flutter closed and his grace again bubbled under his fingertips, stronger than before.

"Now, you might start to feel a bit drowsy, but if you feel any pain at all I need you to tell me immediately," Elijah cracked his eyes open to search Vincent's face for an answer.  
Vincent's gave a curt nod, eyes closed.

"Then we'll begin." Elijah closed his eyes again and placed his hand on Vincent's shoulder, his grace beginning to seep past the physical and into the spiritual part of his body.

"Relax," Elijah whispered, stepping closer to Vincent.

Vincent relaxed and focused on the feel of Elijah's grace seeping into him deeper than he'd ever felt it go.  
It felt warmer than usual too, and while it worried Vincent slightly that the temperature of his grace was different, it wasn't a bad different. If felt good, like sitting in front of the furnace after playing in the snow.

Elijah pushed his grace through the whole of Vincent's body, trying to fill all the space not occupied by his soul. It took a few minutes to make sure all the space was filled, but Elijah really only had one chance to get this right. He needed to take his time.

"Here we go," he whispered, breath feathering over Vincent's face. Vincent hadn't even registered the Angel getting so close to him, but like Elijah had said would happen, he was getting drowsy. He didn't find himself having the energy to care.

Elijah focused on using the energy of Vincent's soul to push tendrils of his grace out as far as possible. The first things he found were Lupin and Hawthorne standing close by. Hawthorne had the exact soul while Lupin had was felt like a skin graft of hers onto his.

He went further, pushing quickly through the borough, searching building after building for what could be the hybrid.

Nothing, it seemed, so he began to draw his grace back in to send them off in another direction when one receding tendril caught something.

There was something on the higher levels of the Met Life building, specifically the clock tower.

He investigated further, pushing most of his amplified grace into the building. Yes, the hybrid was definitely there, but there was something else.

Something hiding.

Something hiding so well, he couldn't even figure out what it was with his grace, but that didn't matter. They knew where to find the hybrid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's the end of that. I'm gonna be kind of busy this coming week, but I might be able to kind time to write.


End file.
